LOTF-slash-Hunger Games Crossover
by Sugar7Sweet
Summary: When a plane carrying a group of school kids crash onto a mysterious island, things soon go out of control. As they attempt to survive on their own, fight for power ensues and no longer can anyone tell the difference between humanity and animal. But something darker, an electrifying truth lies deep within their fate-which may not in fact be fate at all...
1. Prologue

**Prologue**

_A beautiful face stared back from the mirror of the transparent water._

_Yes, she knew she was beautiful. That she knew. And she knew many other things, among that._

_Standing, a curtain of midnight black cascading with her movement, she raised her sight to the full moon casting light upon the night sky. The sky was dark, like her hair, disguising it, and only her pointed face illuminated like a ghost. All traces of youth about her features-her tall nose, her sculptural cheekbones, her full lips-were replaced by untimely maturity. Young as she was, she was not unworldly, and it reflected in her eyes that now looked out into the distance. Startling, blue eyes as dark as her head gazed contemplatively. She posed a question for herself, a question that always lingered in her head: When would be the day that she would not be alone? Her feet moved lightly for her toes to just touch the edge of the cool lake, tiny ripples sprouting beneath them. Fresh water was always comforting, as were the animals and the plentiful nature around her. But she would not be alone for long. She had a sense that evening, a sense that her isolation would soon come to an end. It was coming, the day when she would be useful, and her duties could be fulfilled. Finally. It had been three years. _One more night, I could wait_, she supposed. She had waited for years. She could wait another night._

_Sleep was sweet, and morning came quick and early._


	2. PART 1: Chapter 1

**Basic Character Introductions (No Spoilers):**

** Annabelle: The de facto leader of the survivors. She takes charge of everyone and her main goal is survival until rescue. Her personality is caring, but serious. Annabelle represents Ralph in the story.**

** Jack: Annabelle's rival and leader of the hunters. He is envious of how the others naturally follow her.**

** Roger: A seemingly dark and aloof boy, he has an aura around him that keeps others away. But is he really a cold-hearted person, or is there more to him?**

** Caitlin: The wise and innocent one who can keep everyone calm. She represents Simon in the story. (The name Caitlin means "pure.")**

** Lucy: The knowledgeable and sensible one on the island, but also gets temperamental and has anger management issues. She represents Piggy in the story.**

** And another, mysterious character who will be introduced shortly…**

* * *

** PART 1**

**Chapter 1**

24 people. 24 students had been on that plane. How every one of them managed to survive that crash was beyond her mind.

She had been in the back rows, the tail section of the plane. It wasn't big, enough to fit 50 people, maybe. A small jet airplane, taking the entire school on a trip to Washington. It was a big school, and they had been categorized by last name. She didn't know anyone on her flight. Much less what their names were. She had no way of calling to them, or finding them. She stood alone on the hot, grainy sand, tattered and worn-out; she felt, however, that she had suffered a good fate. Other than the fact that her clothes had soaked for a couple of hours, and her hair was a tangled mess, she was fine. She had managed to salvage her backpack during the chaos, which held a water bottle now empty, an extra sweater, and notebooks drenched beyond hope. The seawater had ruined her black iPod, which had been in her pocket when the plane began to plummet down towards the ground. Tossing it into the sand and burying it slowly with her toes, she remembered others, other students from the plane, panting for breath and crying for help in the water. But they had survived; she remembered they had all come out of the water alive, onto land. Now dry and reasonably clean, she stood, and she waited for the view of the first person.

* * *

The sight of the girl standing on the beach, in solitary manner, prompted the blonde-haired girl to carefully retreat from the bushes, and approach in calm manner. The girl standing there looked older, and she wasn't particularly pretty, with her long, tangled brown ringlets and plain golden brown eyes, but she had an aura of authority about her that made the blonde girl curious. Curiosity was something she couldn't ignore. And she knew she wasn't old or experienced enough to take care of herself alone on this island. After she had passed out, she found herself alone on the beach, and had gone into the forest in hopes of finding the others from the plane. She stepped quietly towards the brown-haired girl, and pulled the skirt of her dress up to avoid catching it with the creepers that enclosed the forest.

* * *

The older girl saw the blonde girl making her way, and prepared to introduce herself. She noted that the girl was probably much younger than she was, or very small for her age. Either way, she didn't want to scare her. The young girl had light, ash-blonde hair that fluttered behind her as she walked in wisps. Light blue tinted her small, intrigued eyes. She stopped trudging right in front of the brown-haired girl, and looked up with a faint smile on her face. Even with her young features, adult-like qualities radiated from her.

"Hi, are you from the plane?"

"Yeah," the older girl said, smiling back comfortingly. "What's your name?"

"I'm Caitlin," replied the blonde girl gently. Something about the way she shuffled her feet, played with her fingers, showed the other girl that maybe she was ill, maybe a little different? She wasn't sure, but there was something very queer about her. But all the same, she was a young girl, and seemed all right. Her skin was very pale, and her cheeks rosy. "I'm thirteen. How about you?"

Surprised by her age, the other answered, "My name's Annabelle. I'm fifteen."

"Where's everyone else?"

"I'm not sure," Annabelle admitted, biting her lip. "I haven't seen them since I passed out. After we all got out of the water."

"Somebody saved me," Caitlin said. "Somebody dragged me out from the water." Her eyes looked up at Annabelle. "I think that was you."  
Annabelle did vaguely remember putting her arms around a young, light-haired girl's shoulders and dragging her onto the beach. She had been rather calm, despite the chaotic circumstances, merely stating very firmly that she couldn't swim as loud as she could. She might have asked Annabelle to help her, or not. But everything around it was fuzzy in her head.

"Yeah," she said. "Yeah, I think I did."

"Thank you," Caitlin said sincerely. Annabelle gave her another smile, and they did not talk again for some time. They weren't sure of what to do, or where the others could be. Probably scattered all around the-where were they exactly? Annabelle took a step back, and for the first time, really got a good look at her surroundings. Tropical trees, tall and towering, blew in the warm breeze all across the forest that made up the middle of the land. After that, was the beach, where she was. All around them, water. Caribbean ocean, the sea wrapping every bit of land she could see. They were on an island, and so far, from the looks of it, it was a completely uninhabited and deserted island. So they had crashed on an island, and everyone (assumingly) survived miraculously. How like a cliche survival novel. Annabelle tapped her cheek with one fingernail, a habit that had become frequent when she was thinking. Suddenly, she only moved her foot by an inch, and tripped over a big rock driven deep into the sand. She swayed, and would have fallen sideways had Caitlin not caught her in time.

"Thanks," she said, panting. Ugh. So her curse hadn't disappeared on the island. She was still as clumsy as she ever was. "Now we're even, I guess."

"You should be careful," Caitlin said, her smile unfading. "There are lots of rocks on the beach, I bet. Things to trip over."

"Nah, I 'm just clumsy," Annabelle said, rubbing her nose. "That's my one big weakness. I've always been pretty uncoordinated."

"Hey," Caitlin said, pointing to something sparkling by the water. "What's that?"

Following her dainty fingers, Annabelle found a large, creamy object floating on the edge of the beach, just barely being kept from being swept away by the waves. Reaching out for it, she grabbed it before it was washed away, and studied it to find it was a conch shell, gleaming and pearly even under layers of wet sand. Caitlin peered over her shoulder in small delight as she wiped off the grime with her fingers, wiping them on her jeans.

"It's a conch shell," she remarked. "It's really pretty." She couldn't help but stare at its beauty, the clean, white lines of the shell once the dirt was gone.

"It's beautiful," Caitlin murmured behind her. They took a moment to examine this lovely find. But sooner or later they had to decide what to do with it.

"Is there any use to it?" Annabelle questioned, now looking inside the hollow conch.

"Yes," breathed Caitlin excitedly. "If you blow into it properly, you can get a sound out of it."

"A sound?" Looking at the shell, it really did resemble a kind of blowing instrument, with the small hole on one end and a bigger opening on the other. Annabelle put her lips to the smaller hole, like she would play a trumpet.

"How do you do it?"

"You sort of spit, I think. Like-"

"Like a trumpet," Annabelle finished. She suctioned her lips around the shell and blew, blew for as long as she could. A very loud, ringing noise came roaring out.

Caitlin took a step back, startled but thrilled. "How'd you do that?'

"I used to play the trumpet, in the school band department," Annabelle said sheepishly. "I don't do any music anymore, but I remember how." She took the shell in her hand and blew into it once more, then a second time. Each time the dimmed, hollow note echoed throughout the island, traveling with the breeze and into the ears of the other survivors.

And one by one, even two or three, faces popped out of the forest, from behind bushes, from the other end of the long strip of beach. Attached bodies began crawling up with them, coming up to Annabelle, saying hello. She gave each and every one of them a good look, trying to remember faces. She took names, and Caitlin stored them in her head. Seemingly the youngest of the whole group, a twelve-year old girl named Tessarose, had long flowing blonde hair and resembled Caitlin, only her hair was darker and was brighter-eyed.

Some of them were related: twin girls, Ruby and Rosaline, who couldn't look less like each other, as well as stepsiblings Hazell and Theodore, who said he was also called "Thayr". The oldest in the group, a 16-years old boy, mumbled that his name was Roger. Going back to a rock in the corner of the group after he spoke and not approaching anyone around him, he seemed to enjoy his confinement. But something gentle in his face said he was more than just aloof. Annabelle noticed his dark, rumpled golden-brown hair and sea foam green eyes.

Soon enough, all 24 people had gathered around the two. No one seemed to be familiar with each other. They all sort of just stood, as if waiting for something grand to happen. Annabelle wasn't used to being in the center of attention-or very well talking to a crowd. But at home, she liked taking charge of things; she liked being the figure of order, whether it was amongst her friends or a class. So, in a moment where everyone seemed to be rather glad to see another person and needing a way to go, Annabelle began to speak.

"Uh, hi, is everyone here? Hello? Hi, my name's Annabelle, and I'm 15. I was in class 5B, 10th grade." Blank stares met the start of her speech. Holding back her barely existent nerves, she continued, "Look, I know none of us know each other. And it could be awkward at first. It could be a lot awkward. But we are on an island, and from what I can see, there are absolutely no people out there. We're on our own." She paused, as everyone caught along to her words. "So, what I'm saying is…we've got to work together. We managed to survive, and we all have to contribute if we want to be rescued." People seemed to understand what she was saying now. Nods of agreement and, to her pleasure, they seemed impressed by her significant words. These were all young teenagers, boys and girls with their ages ranging from 12 to 16. To be accepted by them would be to gain their trust, their dependence. She could direct them, and guide them so they could all get off this island faster. _That's the most important thing,_ she thought.

"Annabelle's right!" cried Lucy, whom Annabelle had noticed as an annoyingly outspoken British girl with a rounded face. Her messy, golden blonde hair that flew in her face and homely brown eyes-overall fairly plain looks- hadn't won much favor with the others. "We need to all work together, or we'll be here_ forever_! Didn't you hear what the pilot said? He said we lost track of the course hours ago! They don't know where to look for us!"

"Shut up," sneered Hazell, who was proving to be more and more unfriendly by the minute. Thayr, who stood next to her, didn't say anything. A golden-blonde boy snickered in the crowd.

"Alright, alright," Annabelle called, trying to calm them down. "It's true. What Lucy said is true"- here, Lucy's eyes widened with great satisfaction that Annabelle had remembered her name- "I think we need to divide into groups to find food and water. And make some shelters. But the first thing we need to do is make a fire. A big one, maybe on the mountaintops, where people can see. And we'll need people to watch that, so it doesn't go out." The teenagers' reaction to Annabelle's speech was much different from the way they treated Lucy's-for a moment it pleased her that they seemed to have somewhat respect for what she was saying.

The golden haired boy stood. He spoke loudly, with dignity and self-righteousness ringing in his voice. He himself sounded like another leader. "We should definitely make a fire, and we also need to look for food. It's a tropical island, so I'm sure there must be fruits and stuff. But we need protein! I think we should go out and see if there's any animals, so we can hunt for meat." The crowd, unlike with Lucy, seemed to accept his words easily. Hazell looked particularly excited at the prospect of hunting. Their regard at this boy also probably had to do with his looks-half of the group were girls, and the boy who spoke had a lean, fit body with gleaming tanned skin. Annabelle observed this as well, but she wasn't about to let him run the crowd as if he was any different from Lucy.

"Here." She passed the conch shell to the boy. "Hold this when you're talking. Anyone who wants to talk can," she looked out to the crowd again as she said this. "As long as you're holding the shell, you can speak. And can you repeat your name? I can't remember."

"M'gosh, that's a conch shell!" Lucy exclaimed marvelously. "That things expensive, that is! It's a very precious shell, that conch shell! I wonder where you could've possibly found it?" No one bothered to answer her.

"Name's Jack," the boy went on spiritedly. "And I'm 15. I can be in charge of hunting for food. I should be pretty good at hunting-my dad has a license back home. I'm also pretty good at being in charge of things." He ended with a rather boastful smile on his face. Annabelle didn't particularly the sound of this arrogant boy, but his toothy grin was striking-it was like a smirk, but charming somehow.

"I think I should organize some people to come with me, on the hunting trip. We can go out and check out the area, see if there are any animals in the forest. Then we'll come back and make weapons. Like spears. And there might even be a survival knife from the plane. Now, come on, who wants to join me?" He looked around proudly. For a moment, nobody said a word. Then they all heard two boys pipe simultaneously,

"We'll follow Jack!" Everyone turned to look at them: they were physically different, but had unity in their high-pitched voices. Both glanced up at Jack admiringly, strongly resembling a pair of groupies. He grinned, pleased, as the two boys joined him, scrambling to stand on both his sides. Annabelle had no idea why two boys would want to follow him so badly, and look up to him as if he were a celebrity.

No one else, however, moved towards him. A flash of irritation appeared in his dark blue eyes. It was a bit unsettling, how sharp and cold they could turn from purely attractive.

"Is there no one else?" he tried, frowning icily.

"Uh, Jack, maybe hunting's not such a good idea," Annabelle said, attempting to save him from humiliation. "I mean, we don't know what kind of animals could be on this island, if there are any. They could be dangerous. And getting meat's not exactly important." Here, a few murmurs and nods of agreement spread across the group. Jack's eyes grew narrower. "I say it _is_ important," the boy insisted loudly. "We need more than just damn fruits to survive. And it'll be fun. We can't stay here for long without some fun, can we?"

"Alright, fine," resolved Annabelle, giving up. She didn't want to fight this fight. Anyone who wasn't blind could see the look of petty jealousy on Jack's face. "Whoever wants to go hunting, can go with Jack. I'll pick some people to find water. Let's see…" The group waited in patience as her eyes swept across the crowd. "I'll pick you, the girl there," she said pointing to a pale brunette girl whose name she couldn't remember. "And you, Maurice, was it? And…and Austen." Her final choice was a boy who appeared around her age, but taller and with a broad stature. Dirty blonde hair flitted across his triangular face as he slinked, unabashed, towards her. The group set, Annabelle said to the remaining people to go with the hunters if they wished, or stay and start making some shelters on the beach. "Some of you should also go and build a fire, maybe somewhere up high, where rescuers can see. This can be our signal fire, and they'll be able to come find us if they see the smoke. No one should let this fire go out." Concluding her words, the now superior 15-year old of the assembly began walking down the beach, the people she had chosen trailing behind her. Her show of leadership in that moment had indeed helped-everyone scattered, but they didn't merely go off and lollygag on their own. Small groups formed, twos or threes or even fours, and set off working; whether it was collecting wood for the fire or branches and long, tropical plant leaves for shelters, they did it with a sense of surprising maturity for a bunch of teenagers. They appeared, to Annabelle, to be conversing politely and cooperating for their tasks. Watching this with content, she started on her way on her own journey with her water-searching partners. As she walked, she passed by Jack, Jack the hunter, and at that moment a spark of rivalry exchanged between them as he stared intently into her eyes. The ever so slight, resenting expression had still not faded away.

* * *

The three behind Annabelle chatted casually as they hiked through the trees, into the forest.

"Hi," the brunette girl said to Maurice. "Joelle. I'm in your biology class." Her eyes were light and cheery as she spoke.

"Hey, I'm Maurice," the boy replied equally warmly. They both seemed to get along with their friendly, sunny natures. He turned to the boy named Austen and said, "And you're Austen, right?"

"You got it," Austen responded, smiling and tilting his head in a self-confident manner. "10th grade, class 2A. I'm captain of the rugby team and the soccer team. I also play varsity basketball, but didn't make captain. _Yet._" Here he winked, his smile widening cheerfully. "But I can hope, right? I mean, I consider myself a fairly good athlete, so it's a matter of time, I guess. My favourite is _definitely _rugby though. How bout you? What sports do you play?" He gestured to Maurice.

"Well, I'm not really a big sports guy," he answered shyly. "I'm on the 9th grade soccer team and I like ice hockey, but I don't really play a lot, like on a team."

"Oh, well there won't be much opportunities to do sports here anyways. Sucks." Austen wrinkled his nose. "Can't believe we're actually on a deserted island…it's like Survivor, with teenagers, y'know? Crazy."

"It's definitely _not _what we were expecting," joined Joelle. "This is seriously insane."

"Kinda cool, though, isn't it? I mean, better than a school trip," said Austen.

"Kind of incredible," Maurice remarked. When Joelle looked at him curiously, he mumbled, "That we all survived, I mean. There were 24 of us, and all of us manage to live? What are the chances of that?"

"That's exactly what I was wondering about when we first got here," Annabelle said, turning her head for the first time since they started walking. "It's a miracle, and I think we're pretty damn lucky to all be here." Everyone nodded in agreement. As the others' conversation continued, she fingered through a tangle of leaves concealing a way to something. Peeling away each of them one by one, she at last made her way through the obstacles and stumbled into a grassy area. Joelle, Maurice, and Austen followed, and stopped in their tracks as she did. Laid in front of them was a wide, clear blue lake, hidden by the jungle, with lofty trees bearing all sorts of fruits and gleaming rocks surrounding the water. The surface sparkled desirably as a beam of sunlight hit it through the giant leaves of the trees. All four of them stared at the stunning view in front of them, a first-class view at nature that they'd never really got to see, living in the big city. It truly was a beautiful place.

"Woah," Maurice breathed.

Annabelle was the first to come around from the amazement at this sight, leaning down to the lake and took out her empty water bottle from her backpack. As she filled hers up, Austen plopped next to her on his knees and began splashing the water into his mouth, drinking.

"Stop!" Annabelle shouted in alarm. She grabbed his wrists to stop from spooning more water. "Stop it! You can't drink it now, it might not be clean! We should heat it over the fire to filter it before we drink it."

"Okay, okay, sorry," Austen mumbled without meaning. He scooped water into his own water bottle, following suit. Joelle and Maurice were careful not to drink it, either. Once all their bottles were filled, Annabelle declared that they should get as many bottles as possible from everyone, and return with them.

"We should let them know, too, that we've found water."

"We're lucky we did," Joelle mused. "We're really lucky. And we found it so quick, too. If we hadn't, we wouldn't have made it three days on this island."

"Austen, we'll go back and tell them we found water. And we'll collect bottles. You two stay here so we can find the lake again. We don't want to lose the way, this could be our only source of fresh water." The three nodded. Joelle and Maurice looked happy sitting and talking to each other lightheartedly by the lake, and the older two made their way back to the camp. As Annabelle pushed vines out of the way, trudging through the mud in the lead, Austen caught one and held it as she passed.

"Aren't you a gentleman," she said jokingly.

"A thank you would be nice," Austen replied smartly. He smirked as she rolled her eyes and continued walking ahead of her. He caught up to her in strides with his long legs.

"Seriously though, that Jack dude was pretty intense about all that hunting crap. I mean, he was kinda built, but he seems pretty mousy to me." When she didn't answer, he continued, "_I_ could probably hunt. _Jack_, I'm not so sure about."

"I'm _sure_," Annabelle replied dryly, her thoughts elsewhere. A tad bit of annoyance crossed Austen's face, but he didn't push on.

* * *

An exasperated sigh simply had to escape Ruby's red-tinted lips as she watched her twin. Rosaline, the useless sister, and her daily talk show, All About Rosaline, was now broadcasting live. Everything in the entire universe_ had_ to revolve around her. She couldn't live otherwise. Every feature, every little detail about her made Ruby want to hurl. But she was her sister, nonetheless, and she had to care about her. Especially on this godforsaken island, she had to take care of her. Because she couldn't _possibly_ take care of herself in a place like this.

Even now, in this ridiculously desperate situation, Rosaline didn't have a clue. She stood on the beach, her perfectly manicured toes digging into the sand; she brushed through her silky golden tresses with her fingers, French nails adorning them.

"Rose, can you get over yourself? At least while we're on this damn island?" Ruby rolled her eyes as her sister looked up at her irritatedly.

"God, Ruby, will _you_ stop telling me what to do?" she spat back, the blue in her eyes flashing. It always surprised someone, when they saw it for the first time, the way her expression could quickly turn from sweet and innocent to a dirty one full of hatred. But not Ruby. She was _very _well used to this drastic change. "You always act like you're the boss of me. Well, guess what, you're highness, _you're not_. So stop yelling at me, it's embarrassing."

"You're the one embarrassing yourself," Ruby said, shrugging. "If you don't mind being the clueless idiot of the island who only cares about her hair and her nails, I don't care."

"You think you're so much better than me. But it's me who mom and dad always side with. Remember that, Ruby? Remember, I'm their favorite?" She called as Ruby walked away from her sister, pulling her dark auburn hair to one side to air herself. She was absolutely sick of Rosaline's narcissistic attitude. It was true that their parents favored her back home. Probably because Ruby wasn't exactly the lovable, model daughter most parents preferred. Maybe it was her fierce scene hairstyle, or her dark eye makeup she wore even now, the black waterproof eyeliner still intact. Her lips were painted bright red. She had been maintaining this style for several years, and her friends had similar looks-interestingly colored hair and styles, unlike Rosaline's friends who were all the same. They dressed like poodles and talked and gossiped for impossibly long periods at a time. Even for a group of very typical teenage girls, they were horrific. They had always managed to get on her nerves since they got into middle school, and she was glad for once her sister didn't have a crowd of prattling, obnoxious girls to go to for comfort. She had to resort to a long, semi-wet log sitting on the beach, which she plopped down upon in annoyance. Ruby glanced at her scornfully, and then turned her head to the others now collecting wood and gathering branches for a fire. None of them even probably knew how to make a fire, she expected. It was time for her survival skills to come into good use-spending time in the forest had been one of her favourite weekend pastimes, and she was a fourteen-year old girl who knew how to handle a knife proficiently. Even now, she had a knife; right at that moment, her small but sharp and efficient pocketknife lay in her pocket. She never went anywhere without it. Her hand slipped in to grasp it with her fingers, feeling the cool silver against her skin. She lowered it again, and pulled her hand out. That ease, that assurance she felt when she knew she had her knife was splendid.

Making a fire, building shelter, these were just the basics for her. Even hunting. She would be hunting, yes, but not with that ridiculous Jack who called himself a "hunter." No, Ruby liked working alone, and she would get her chance later on. Just maybe she might join the hunters, but first she needed to scout out the area on her own, see what kind of game they might find. For now, she blended into the crowd helping out with gathering the firewood. Her time would come later.

* * *

An ocean gust touched the girl's tousled, metallic caramel locks. Named for her stunning eyes, Hazell squinted menacingly as a thick curl of hair swept across her face, covering her view. She whipped her hand at it, like it was a pesky fly, glaring. It wasn't her fault she was born with annoying hair. Why should she have to suffer with it? She believed punishment was the key to most things, and physical punishment especially. Even her hair was to blame at times.

"Hazell!" a voice behind her called. She didn't have to turn to know who it was, and she didn't. Anyone who knew him would recognize that irritatingly sweet, naïve little voice. Thayr. Or Theodore, her sickeningly innocent stepbrother. No one could be as virtuous as that son of a bitch. Literally. Hazell sneered to herself-Thayr's mother was a gold digger and a swine; she had only married her father for his money. Only, she was the only one who could see it. Everyone else was just fucking blind.

"Hazell, didn't you hear me?" Thayr was now dangerously close to her, clear within a meter. _Don't. Just don't. I am _not_ in the mood for you and your snobby, dim-witted holiness._ Her body just wasn't about to take anything from him today, or someone was going to get pounded bloody.

"Haz-"

"YES." Hazell turned, violence erupting in her intensely hued eyes. "What is it, _Thayr_?" Her voice was a soft, but low growl as she spat his name like dirt.

He sighed at his stepsister's usual aggression and disdain. "Aren't you going to help get wood? We're making the fire on the mountain."

"No." One eyebrow raised as she stared at Thayr's idiocy.

"You should," he insisted. "We all need to work on it if we want to be rescued as soon as possible. You heard what Annabelle said."

What kind of teenage boy was so logical? And fuck what Annabelle said, she wasn't about to take orders from some Hispanic-American (by the looks of it) with bad hair and a damn shell.

"I'm going hunting." She suddenly whirled around after this decision, and began trekking up the beach towards the boy who was going to lead the hunting trip. Jack. He had captured Hazell's attention from the minute he mentioned hunting for meat. Then she had gotten a look at him, and damn, she liked what she saw. Soft, but toned muscles adorned his slender arms, and his hair gleamed under the sunlight. As he stretched, she could see his tanned abs flexing. He was perfect. Someone who loved hunting, and good-looking? Hazell had never tried hunting as a way of letting out "pent-up aggression" (as some people called it), but she wasn't afraid of trying something new. She wasn't afraid of anything. She would become a hunter, and work on Jack, too...

"Jack!" her voice turned into melted chocolate as her eyes twinkled at this alluring boy. He stared for a moment at the girl, who skipped straight into his path. Good, good, she had her attention. True to her name, her eyes could tempt anyone, and she knew she was somewhat pretty. No. Who was she kidding. She was gorgeous. Her curls were perfect, her lashes long and her perked nose dotted with light freckles. A silky smile, a look could capture a boy. Or her physical aggression, if it came to be necessary.

"You're Jack, right?" Playing it dumb was the safe thing to do. At first.

"Uh, yeah," he replied, not looking particularly excited. But it didn't faze her.

"Hazell." She shook her head firmly without waiting for his approval. "You said you're going hunting? I want to come, too."

"Are you sure you're up for it?" Jack looked at her attractive appearance doubtfully. "I mean, are you physically?"

In reply, Hazell roundhouse-kicked the small tree standing next to him. He jumped as a branch fell to his side, a crack appearing on the trunk where it had received the blow. His expression of shock quickly turned into a wicked grin.

"Nice!"

Hazell faked a modest blush. "Thank you. Now, let me join your hunters." Jack nodded excitedly, satisfied with her well-learned Tae Kwon Do skills. The group to go on the hunting trip was soon arranged. It would be Jack and Hazell, two other boys, and if he could get to his senses, Thayr.

"Thayr, you WILL do this. For me." Her eyes darkened as she glared at her stepbrother, who had declined the offer to come hunting with them.

"Hazell, you know that stuff isn't me," he tried to reason, pleading. "I wouldn't know how to hunt. I couldn't even hurt an animal. Please don't make me do this." The desperation on his face was like a lost dog. Hazell, in frustration, grabbed him by the wrist and began forcing him up the beach to where the hunters were gathering.

"Hazell..." His voice drifted off, and knowing his sister's incredible strength and stubbornness, he ceased to argue. He was going on this hunting trip, and there was nothing he could do about it. Hazell would see to that.

"He's coming, too." She dropped him on his knees in front of their new leader, Jack. "This is Theodore, or Thayr, my stepbrother." She rolled her eyes as Thayr scrambled to his feet, and mumbled a hello. Then he moved to stand beside his sister. Jack only gave him an up and down look, before continuing to talk to the other two boys.

Hazell gave a menacing glare at her brother. "You ruin this for me, and I'll snap your arms. You understand? Just stay close to me and DON'T get on Jack's nerves. NOT that close!" She screamed as Thayr shuffled even closer to her. He winced at her outburst, taking a big step backwards. Ruffling his black hair, he stood awkwardly.

The other boys, who had been following Jack around like puppy dogs, were named Sébastien and Fillip, Hazell learned. The blonde one with a high voice and pale skin was Sébastien, the Spanish-American one whose features were dark in color and more chiseled, was Fillip.

"Jack is the awesomest, most badass guy ever!" Sébastien enthused to Hazell. "He's done everything! He drove his dad's motorcycle on the freeway, toilet-papered a car in the school parking lot-he was the one who played that huge prank on the principal's last day!"

"Yeah," Fillip joined in excitedly. "And he never gets caught. All the teachers love him, they think he's this saint! No one would ever rat him out, though. He's our hero." Both boys looked up longingly from their short legs at this so-called badass hero of theirs. Jack merely smirked, not saying anything to confirm their words. Hazell smiled at him, but her lips lowered into a snarl when he turned his head away, uninterested. So this was going to be difficult, was it? Well she had a plan, a plan to get his attention, and maybe have some fun on this damn island. She grabbed her stepbrother, and began trudging through the sand after Jack. The hunters were heading out._ Let the games begin_, she said to herself. Her lips curled upwards in anticipation and delight. Hopefully there were some animals to kill on this godforsaken island. It could help let out some emotions.

* * *

The rock skipped across the ocean, rippling delicately on the crystal water. The boy with dark hair, dark as chocolate but not quite black, hunched down to touch the warm grains of sand with his thin fingers. Another stone, a perfectly smooth one, made its way into his grasp. Perfect. It would be an easy throw, four skips at the least.

Roger stood up to his full figure, towering over his own shadow. As he bent low, leaning back contemplatively and aiming the stone in his hands, a young voice spoke behind him.

"Do you want to help with the shelters?"

He stopped, turning to face the youngest he had seen on the island, a girl about the age of 12 with long, flowing blonde hair. Rosy cheeks upon her creamy skin made her look ever the more child-like.

"I'm Tessarose," she said when he didn't reply. She was small, but not timid, and she reached out and shook his hand firmly without hesitation. A pair of lovely blue eyes shone as she continued speaking. "I'm from the middle school, the one connected to your high school. There was only room for me on this plane, so I was with the high school students. I guess that was just bad luck."

Roger stared as the tiny girl went on talking. So far, on the island everyone seemed to be distancing themselves from him-no one had been particularly antagonistic towards him, but there was a sense of fear that they seemed to get from him. He had a dark, reserved sort of aura that he rather enjoyed. Solitude was normally his best friend. And here was this child, approaching him with confidence and friendliness. He wasn't sure of what to do, or say.

"Uh...I don't think so." He cleared his throat shyly. "I mean, I don't think I'm welcome, anyways."

"Well, of course you're welcome." Tessarose smiled kindly. "Everyone needs to help out. You can't just not try and get out of it by thinking you're not welcome." Innocence rang in her soft, melodic voice. She then began making her way back to where the people were mostly gathered. "Come on, Roger, join us. I'll be up there working." Wondering how she could've known her name, he stared wonderingly at this little girl as she skipped back up the beach, the pure white sundress floating after her.

She had been the first one, the only one to show kindness to Roger since they'd arrived on this bloody island. None of them knew, of course, that he had dragged onto the beach from the water nearly half of them; it was the reason they were alive. Or did this girl, Tessarose, know? Was she the one person conscious when he had saved the lives of 10 or 11 people? It didn't matter. Right now he could either follow her words, and help out with building shelters and a fire, or stay on his own. Looking up at the big crowd distastefully, he trekked his way up towards them. A group of four people stood, separate from the others. No, five people- the black haired boy had joined them as he walked. Roger approached them, each step heavy and lengthy as he contemplated his options.

Finally, he caught the attention of the girl with caramel curls. Her hazel eyes turned, staring sharply at him as he got closer and closer.

"Can I join you?" he asked the hunters.

* * *

Jack eyed the newcomer curiously-he had seen this boy before, who had an odd, dark sort of look in his fierce green eyes. He was tall, well-built, would be a good addition to the hunting troupe. After his analogy was over, he offered his hand, shaking the other boy's firmly.

"Sure. I'm Jack. I'm going to be leading the trip."

"Roger," replied the boy coolly. Jack was enticed by his attitude, the aura that seemed to keep him slightly distanced from everyone else. Hazell and Thayr stood a few meters away, while Sébastien and Fillip, his two new cronies, peered at him with curious interest. The boy named Roger stripped off the thin leather jacket from his shoulders, and wrapped it around his waist, revealing a toned chest hugged by a brown t-shirt.

"Alright, let's go," said Jack loudly for the group to hear. "We'll just go and see if there's any animals on the island at all. No need for weapons now." The six teenagers started making their way off the beach, and into the forest when two faces, Annabelle and Austen, came running out.

Panting for breath, Annabelle said, "We've found water!"

"Already?" A tone of surprise came from Jack's lips. He knew Annabelle was a natural leader, and this was an impressive feat-the water-finding group had only been gone 10 or 20 minutes.

"Yeah," said Austen enthusiastically. "We just found this big lake in the middle of the forest."

Annabelle's reappearance gathered most of the people around her. She announced to them, "We've found water in the forest! There's a lake, a big one, and it should be a good source of fresh water. We just came to collect as many water bottles as we can-please give us all your empty water bottles, and we'll go fill it up." A cluttered line formed in front of her as the teenagers handed out their water bottles. Jack tapped his foot in slight impatience. She was taking too long, and taking up his hunting time. When it was his turn to hand over his bottle, instead of doing so, he crossed his arms in her face.

"Is this almost done? Me and my hunters want to get going."

"Relax, Jack," she replied crossly. "You'll have plenty of time. Water is the _most _important thing when it comes to survival-you have water, and you can live for weeks without even eating food."

"You just don't want me to hunt, do you?"

"Why wouldn't I want that?"

"You don't want me to be the leader of my own group, to lead the hunters, because you obviously think you've got a hand on everything and things should just go according to you," he concluded haughtily.

"Excuse me?" Annabelle huffed, exasperated. "None of that is true. I don't care if you hunt or not. _You _seem to be the one who doesn't want me here."

"Hm…well, just as long as we're clear." Oddly, he reached out a hand to shake hers. She took it wordlessly. "I'll be in charge of the hunters, and I guess you've got the rest. They seem to prefer you, anyhow." With finality, Jack flicked his hair in salute, and abruptly marched off with his group of prospective hunters.

* * *

Staring at the back of his head as left, glimmering under the fading light, she couldn't help shaking her head. This Jack had a strange effect on her-his condescending and competitive personality tired her out. Yet, as exhaustingly difficult he was, she wasn't bothered by him as much as she should've been. Competition was probably inevitable, but she wasn't dreading it. Of course, she was practically minded and hated to argue, but he left her with an odd feeling, a feeling that she shouldn't let him out of her sight. He would need her guidance on the island eventually.


	3. Chapter 2

**Chapter 2**

Their first night had fallen, and a roaring fire, born from the emergency matches found on the plane wreckage, warmed the survivors in the cool evening wind. From what they could salvage, some managed to find bits of their luggage, and everybody wrapped themselves up with a sweater or other extra clothing. Even in the steaming tropical atmosphere, by night the temperature dropped down to below 15 degrees. Huddled around the flames, 18 teenagers shivered in wait for their 6 hunters to return. Annabelle was worried-had they not even made a day without losing people? But her concerns melted away as Jack, followed by his hunters, came sprinting out of the forest in unison.

"Finally!" she cried out at their return. "What took you guys so long?" The crowd stirred with noise as the hunters made themselves comfortable by the fire, plopping down on the beach in random spots where they could. Rosaline looked oddly pleased when their leader chose a spot near her.

"Did you guys find anything? Are there animals on the island?" Maurice questioned eagerly. He had wanted to join the hunting group earlier, but had missed the trip due to collecting water at the lake. He was sitting curled up next to Joelle, who twisted her damp hair in her fingers, waiting curiously for the hunters' reply.

Jack drew his hands, and his companions stopped speaking. Standing tall so everyone had their eyes on him, he announced,

"Pigs! Big, fat boars and their babies! The forest is full of them!" Gasps and whispers of delight ran throughout the crowd. There was nothing like good pork meat to satisfy the growling stomachs of these teenagers. So far, coconuts and bananas had been discovered in the forest, as well as a bush of berries, but fruits only went so far to fill them up. They had still been hungry, and now they were ravenous at the thought of lean, juicy meat.

"Alright, alright, everybody quiet!" Annabelle had to shout to calm them down again.

"How did you find them?" someone called from the circle.

A wicked grin spread across Jack's face as if he'd been anxiously waiting for this question. As the hunters' leader gleefully began speaking, Annabelle rolled her eyes. This was about to be a long story.

"Well, we were out in the jungle, deep in the middle of the forest. I thought I found these tracks, which had to belong to some big animal. All 6 of us were crouched low, hiding so we wouldn't scare it, when suddenly...

* * *

_Cool dirt, a jagged surface brushed Jack's feet as he bent down to the ground. He shushed his hunters, gesturing for them to follow his movements. They did silently. Creeping up from behind a bush of tangled creeper vines, he peered out at the sight before him. It was a riverbank, running with pure water. The water must be pouring into the lake, he decided. And along the river, the creature, the fat, rounded boar, drank peacefully. Jack stared, concentrating on the pig's movements, its speed and agility as it travelled. It was slow, and seemingly dim-witted, too. It would be an easy kill. Continuing to drink, it did not notice the boy even when he accidentally rustled a leaf amongst the bushes. Only when it looked up, by complete chance, and stared straight back into Jack's eyes, did he inch away slowly. With whisper-yells of, "Pig! There's a pig on the island!" he led the others quickly in leaving the area. He couldn't frighten the pig away from the place, or he may never find it again. But, logically thinking, if there was one, there had to be more. This was proven to be correct as the hunters ran, dashing down the hills and between trees, until a group of more pigs had them skidding to a stop. Hazell gasped. As they examined the group, it appeared to be a mother sow and 4 of her children. The other one they saw could be their father, or maybe it wasn't related at all. That case meant more pigs. More pigs that they would be hunting for, bright and early tomorrow._

_The sun had gone down. Darkness was creeping up in the between the trees along the outskirts of the forest. Retreating carefully, the 6 teenagers raced back to the beach in excitement, eager to deliver the news of what they had found..._

* * *

Annabelle awoke on the cold, but comforting surface of her makeshift bed of grasses. Everyone had fallen asleep by the fire with such a bed, with proper shelters having yet to be built. A pile of big, banana leaves had been used as a pillow. Two tired eyes fluttering open, she shot up with a gasp. Had she been sleeping for too long? What time was it? Never before had she longed so much for a watch-she knew the key to survival in a remote place was keeping track of time and day. It gave you a sense of who you are, reminded you of it. Pulling herself off from the "bed", her eyes darted around. More than half of the people were awake, walking about and some doing their designated work. Jack was already dressed for his first real hunting expedition (if a pair of khaki shorts and a leather necklace was considered dressing.) A long, clean stick was in his left hand, a glinting knife in the other. He was sharpening the stick with it into a spear. Annabelle scrambled to her feet, being careful as to not trip over young Tessarose sleeping soundly next to her, and marched over to the boy.

"Where'd you get that knife?" she demanded.

"Ah, I see our _chief's_ finally awake. Good morning to you, too."

"Good morning. Now, answer the question."

"Ouch, so cutting." He looked up at last from his finished work, smiling condescendingly at her. It almost infuriated her to see that idiotic, smug grin, plastered on his face. "If you _have _to know, I found it in what's left of the plane. Went rummaging there a little on my own after you lot fell asleep early."

"You went there in the dark? Alone?"

Jack laughed. "Why, worried about me?"

She glared. "I should be. You shouldn't just be going off on your own at night. It's dangerous."

"Relax, captain. I'm fine," he snickered, pocketing his knife after a final touch. Hazell, the only girl who had joined the hunting group, came along holding her own spear up threateningly. It was masterfully carved, but something about it looked as if it was made with rough hands. She eyed Annabelle watchfully, her lips curling up with disdain.

"Well, as long as no one's getting themselves hurt," she said with finality. With that, she turned on her heel, and made her way back to the fire. The hunters gathered slowly around their leader, including Austen and Maurice who had joined yesterday's crew. Most of the boys had discarded their shirts as well. Only Roger, the quiet one, kept his brown t-shirt on. Even then, he was the most noticeably muscular out of the lot.

"Come on, everybody, get ready to go!" she heard Jack call as the now black and flameless fire pit came into view. Annabelle frowned, then whirled her head towards the signal fire on top of the mountain, hit with realization-they had been so giddy and tired after their first day on the island, no one had been assigned to watch and rekindle either fire. They would have to light it again, and that meant using another match.

Groaning, she pulled the little white box out of her pocket. Most of the matches had been ruined by water, and now only three remained. They would have to be very careful. As she took one out and bent down by the pit, a few empty-handed people gathered around her.

"Do you need help with that?" asked Joelle. Caitlin, Tessarose, and Lucy were watching as well. Rosaline stood nearby, but only filed her nails after a few uninterested glances.

"No, it's okay, I've got it." Annabelle struck the match against the side of the paper box. A small spark appeared, but no flame. Frowning, she struck it again. Nothing. A third time, with a little too much strength. It snapped feebly in her fingers.

"Damn," she muttered under her breath. Taking out another one, she attempted and succeeded in lighting the match. But as she dropped it into the pile of wood, it shivered, and died out quickly. She wiped her sweaty hair out of her face, frustrated. That was their second one out of three.

"Here, let me try." Joelle took the box from her hands, striking the last match before she could object. A huge flame ignited from the tip on her first try. Startled, she yelped and cast it to the ground as the fire reached her fingers. The final match was out: it lay blackened and completely unusable in the dirt.

"Sorry!" She cried. An apologetic look on her face, she backed away from the pit shamefully.

Annabelle bit her lower lip, contemplating the situation worriedly. This meant they would have to make a fire by rubbing two sticks together. She only knew the basics of how it worked, but the method wasn't exactly clear in her head. Someone on the island had to know how to make a fire.

"I got it, I got it!" A voice called out from the circle of people now crowding around them. Lucy, who had been watching everything exasperatedly, came marching with her hand flailing in the air. She grabbed two sticks lying around on the dirt, and jammed one on top of another vertically on the pile of dry leaves. As she twisted the coarse, jagged wood furiously between her palms, splinters began poking into the skin and blood seeped out. But she didn't so much as wince.

Annabelle, however, grimaced anxiously. "Uh, Lucy, maybe you shouldn't…leave it to someone else…"

"I've got it, I've got it!" was all that came shouting hoarsely out of Lucy's mouth. She started to rub even harder. No flames appeared. After a couple of minutes, Annabelle couldn't handle it any longer.

"Jack!" she yelled, turning towards the hunters. They were prepared to leave, and had been on their way into the forest. The spear slung over his shoulder, he frowned in annoyance at her interruption. His companions stopped, and turned to see what was going on.

"What?" he shouted back.

"I need your help. Before you go hunting, just come here for a sec."

Jack wasn't pleased as he sprinted down the beach to her.

"What is it?"

"Do you know how to start a fire?"

"Sure, you rub two sticks together."

"Could you do it? We're out of matches." As she spoke, Lucy shouted, not looking up from her bleeding hands, "Stop! I can do it! I've got it!"

"Oh, shut it, retard! Get out of the way!" Jack yelled. She howled in protest as he shoved her roughly out of the way. Her hands, covered with open wounds, caught her fall. Annabelle could see the tears forming in her round, beady eyes as she whimpered.

"Jack!" She exclaimed in outrage. But no words of defense came out.

"I can do this!" Lucy cried, scrambling to her feet and trying to grab the stick from him. He merely pushed her aside again, with a snarl of, "Get out of my WAY, I said!" Everyone watched in uncomfortable silence as she crumpled to the ground. Only Hazell appeared to be laughing cruelly, though a small smirk cracked on Austen's face. Ruby merely raised an eyebrow from a distance, seemingly indifferent about the situation.

Jack, finally having a chance to create the fire, began rubbing the same way Lucy had. But he wasn't having much luck, either-he glared at the sticks as nothing happened. As the friction burned his palms as well, he hollered in pain, jolting away from the pit. Here, Lucy grabbed her chance and got back to her position in front of the fire. The other didn't argue this time, rubbing his wounds and swearing. A small flicker, then a great blaze of red burst out from under her fingers. It stayed this time, growing bigger and bigger with the help of the tinder.

She breathed a sigh of relief, as did everyone else, and wheeled to face Jack haughtily.

"What'd I tell you? See? I did it! I said I'd do it, and I did it!" But no one bothered to pay attention. The small crowd began walking away, as the fire had been made and the drama over. Annabelle uttered a quick thanks before going off as well, gathering bigger wood to enlarge the fire. Her expression of pride melted into a pout. "I knew I could do it! I knew it, because according to the 5 laws of friction, you have to rub the sticks a certain way! Jack was doing it wrong, he was going too fast! The laws of friction say that the coefficient of static friction is greater than the coefficient of kinetic friction!"

Jack didn't even retort, gathering up his spear and leaving for the forest. At the speed of light, Lucy was standing alone by the lonesome fire. Wiping at her eyes, she touched the open cuts and burns on her palms. All this pain and endurance for a lousy fire, and nobody even cared. As she ripped off a piece of her t-shirt to make bandages for her hands, Caitlin approached her quietly. An innocent, tender smile was on her face as she came and sat down next to her.

"_I_ saw what you did," she said. "You were very brave. It must have hurt, to have your hands burned like that." Her silvery hair fluttered around her face from the wind.

"Nah," Lucy answered as brightly as she could. She could not stop, however, the tears that welled in her eyes. "It wasn't that bad. And…thanks. At least somebody noticed." She didn't object as Caitlin took the simulated bandages and wrapped her wounds up, as if they had known each other for years.

"My name's Caitlin," she said as she worked.

"I'm Lucy." She lifted her lips up to a small grin, something that hadn't been seen on her since she'd arrived on the island. Their eyes twinkled as they shook hands, each observing the other curiously and intently.

"So…" Caitlin said, smiling kindly herself. "What _are_ the 5 laws of friction?"

Lucy grinned even wider.

* * *

"Joelle!" Calling her name with enthusiasm, Maurice ran doggedly down to the girl.

She sat on a log, chin leaning on one hand, as she watched the horizon dreamily.

"Hey! Joelle! Hey, what've you been doing?" Her head lifted as he plopped down next to her. Smiling softly, she replied,

"Nothing, really. Just looking at the water-it's so pretty, isn't it?" She blinked; her smile suddenly turned sad. "It really is beautiful. The ocean. Everything's pretty here. And besides, I wouldn't want to get in the way anymore. So this is what I should be doing." Her words were spoken calmly, with tranquility and peace, but Maurice could hear her swallowing back something.

"What do you mean, get in the way?"

"You were there. Remember, I ruined the last match?"

"You were only trying to help," he tried, putting his hand gently on her arm. He felt a tingle of nervousness as he slowly stroked it, consoling her.

"Well, maybe I shouldn't try so hard. Thanks, anyways, though." A pair of brown eyes stared up longingly. Gulping, he tried not to inch away as the nerves increased. Instead, Maurice wrapped his arm around her warmly. The two teenagers sat, a bit awkwardly but nevertheless in comfort, as they gazed out at the horizon together. Joelle's head slowly lowered onto his shoulder.

A snicker from behind them caused them to break apart, spinning to look around. Austen walked by, giving them a wolf-whistle. Maurice blushed.

They were interrupted again by a ringing, sugary sweet voice. "Maurice!" a blonde girl chirped rather annoyingly. It was a bright-eyed Rosaline, her features seeming extra attractive as she waved at the boy.

But he only called back a "What?", distracted by the girl around his arm. He rolled his eyes as Rosaline continued to shout his name, and stood up. Frowning, he said, "I'll be right back," and walked away from the log grudgingly. That girl had been flirting with Jack non-stop since they got here, trying to get his attention, and now she was trying for Maurice, too? He could see the spiteful look on her pretty, but cold face as she watched him reluctantly leave Joelle.

Even as they pulled apart, he turned to wink at her; she sniggered in response. Walking away, his heart fluttered a little, hopeful thoughts forming in his head. Thoughts, he deemed, that would probably keep him up all night.

* * *

Closing her eyes, Joelle pictured a paradise. In that paradise, she lay on a beach recliner, pure white sand all around her. She could feel everything, hear everything: from the slow, scorching of the sun above, to the ocean, waves tumbling back and forth in aquamarine water. A perfect place. A haven for her head filled with distracting thoughts. Here she could put those thoughts down and just lie, relax freely beneath cloudless skies and noiseless ambience.

She opened her eyes. The paradise was still half-there. The sun was setting, unlike in her imagination, but this island was as good as anything she could think of. Joelle had always used her creativity to her advantage, and this was a method her old therapist had taught her.

Feeling the cool, twilight breeze creep up her arms, prickling each hair to stand as they extended out towards the sea. It swept up into her face, blowing her ragged, unwashed locks away. She could live like this forever. Live in the moment, in peace and calm, forever and ever. The way she never got a chance to as a child. _The secret. _The dark, gut-wrenching secret in her past that had cast a black cloud over her life for so many years. But all the misery, all the pain was finished now. Joelle knew as soon as she was off this island, she could truly live in peace.

Sounds of Maurice rushing back towards her, his feet tapping against the grains of sand, warned her to return to the current moment. Looking up, she couldn't help but smile at his warm, friendly face as he jogged unevenly across the shore. _But can he be trusted? Was he really a friend, or does he just want something more from me? _She hated the thought that he could possibly be like any other guy. Like the men she had known all her life. Joelle had a fairly good judgment of people, and she felt like there was something different about Maurice. _I'll have to see,_ she thought while the boy approached closer and closer. _I'll just have to wait until he proves that he can be trusted. _Even as friendly and goodhearted she found him, she couldn't take any chances. Not after everything she had been through. The nightmares, the cold-sweated horrors had gone away. She wasn't about to risk it all returning to her by making a mistake.

"Hey," she said, warmly, but with open eyes as Maurice took a seat next to her.

* * *

The rustle in the bushes startled Annabelle, awaking her to her senses. She whirled around from the feeble hut she was working on to see Jack, emerging from the trees.

"Do you have to scare me like that?" she asked, annoyed.

"Wasn't trying to." He sneered as he crawled into full view. His shorts had a small rip on the side, and his hair was matted and tangled with leaves. Clods of dirt caked the creases in his abs, decorating his chest artfully.

"Looks like you've been having fun." She returned to her building, stacking a branch upon another with care.

Jack snorted. "Yeah. Fun. I can't even find the stupid pigs anymore." He rubbed his nose, frowning. "Do you have any water?"

"Sure, over there in the bottle." Grabbing the bottle, he drank, gulping down water like an animal.

"That's better," he said with a gasp. "God, I was dying of thirst out there."

"I would've thought you caught something, after all that bragging yesterday," Annabelle commented nonchalantly.

"Oh, like you could catch a pig." Jack snapped. "Seriously, Annabelle, all you've been doing is making these shelters_. _You have no _idea_ how hard hunting is. Especially when you don't have enough energy from eating proper foods. Like MEAT."

"Sure," she replied sarcastically. "And I suppose we need to make a three-course meal, and find some desert, too?" A low grunt came from his lips. Raising one eyebrow pitifully, she continued, "I'm serious, too. It's not just food that matters on this island. What's really important is getting out of here. Who's going to see us if we don't keep the signal fire going all the time? How are all 24 of us going to get rescued, and still survive until then? Do you realize how difficult _that's _going to be?" Before Jack could argue back, a small figure burst from the forest and tumbled onto the beach. Sébastien, his bare arms cut and bloody, ran screaming towards the two. Everyone stared in bewilderment as he collapsed to the ground at their feet, and cried out, in a strangled voice, "Monster! There's a monster in the forest!"


	4. Chapter 3

**WARNING: There will be a scene with gore and possibly disturbing content in this chapter. **

** Chapter 3**

"Sébastien!" Annabelle shouted, desperately trying to calm the terrified boy. "Calm down, just calm down and tell us exactly what happened. _Calm down,_ Sébastien. It's alright. We're all here, everything's fine. Relax. Stop screaming."

"What the _hell _is going on?!" Jack attempted a different approach, as he grabbed the boy by his shirt and picked him up like a feather. "Sébastien, stop crying and tell us WHAT HAPPENED!"

"Stop yelling at him!"

"DON'T tell me what to do," he retaliated. But he turned to Sébastien, who was still whimpering with fear, lowered his voice and asked, "Sébastien. I'm sorry. Can you _please_ tell us what happened? Before we go insane."

Panting and gasping for breath, the crowd now circling the three people waited impatiently while he struggled to speak. Finally, after one last gulp of air, Sébastien began:

"I was wandering around the forest a little on my own, just seeing if I could find a pig on my own. I wanted to be the one to kill the first pig, you know? Or at least find one myself. Cause we weren't having much luck. So I was just walking around, a little further to the other side of the island than everyone else, when-when I heard something behind me. I looked, and it was something big, and dark. I think it had hair, or fur, or SOMETHING! I don't know, I didn't get a close look! I just ran here as fast as I could, because I felt it chasing me. I thought it was going to kill me!" He lifted his arms, showing the blood-streaked slashes. "I ran so fast, I didn't even bother to get the creepers out of the way. But I swear, there is some kind of animal on the island! I know it, I know it was dangerous because-" Swallowing loudly, his eyes widened at a thought of what he had seen in the woods. "Because there was all this blood, blood under the tree, on the trunk. I don't know what it was, but I swear to you, it was some kind of beast. I think it's a deadly animal." Silence filled the air as this news sunk into the crowd. It was followed by whispers, some of doubt and ridicule, but mostly of fear. Fear. It was the most dangerous thing that could be on this island right now, Annabelle knew that. She was suddenly worried as well, but she couldn't let this scare everybody into doing something irrational. She had to keep the people calm.

"Okay, give us some space, everybody! Just-uh, go back to what you were doing! We need to have a little discussion here. Please, if everyone could just back away for a minute!" Muttering rapidly amongst themselves, the crowd slowly separated. Putting her hands on Sébastien's shoulders comfortingly, she murmured, "It's going to be okay. Everything will be fine. Now go get a drink of water, and stay by the campsite. I'm going to find someone to treat your cuts soon. Just wait while I talk to Jack." He didn't hesitate to obey the instructions. Watching him dash off, she let out a heavy breath of worry.

"What are we going to do about this?" she asked once Jack was the only one standing next to her. He scratched his head in reply, playing with the pointed end of his spear. Annabelle put her hands on her waist. "You don't know, do you?"

"No, I don't," he mumbled. "But we've got to keep them calm. This whole thing could freak everyone out, and make them lose control.

"Exactly," she said in agreement. Suddenly, they both looked at each other wondrously. It was the first time the two had ever been of the same mind, and Annabelle realized that she was actually discussing something calmly with him for assistance. _Maybe he could become a trusted confidante, a sort of co-leader._ She now knew she was expected to take charge of things around the island, and with Jack's authority over the hunters, he could be of great help. Blinking, he coughed awkwardly.

"So, um…yeah. We have to keep everyone calm. So nobody gets hurt."

"Yeah," she replied. "How can we do that?"

"Maybe…maybe we should just tell them there is no monster. I mean, _I_ don't believe there is."

"But then Sébastien would think we don't trust him."

"I'll deal with him," Jack assured determinedly. "You tell the rest of them that there's no monster, and no animal. They like you. They trust what you say." An uncomfortable silence filled the space between them as he spoke his last words bitterly.

"I'm sure some of them like you better. For example, Hazell."

"She's kind of freaky…she's obsessed with hunting."

"Like you're not."

"Well…"

"Guess she's perfect for you," Annabelle chuckled.

"Back to the subject," Jack growled. "I'll talk to Bastien, and you settle it with the crowd, 'kay? Convince them that this monster doesn't exist."

"But…" She paused for a moment, a worried frown appearing. "But what if there is a dangerous animal? Sébastien said there was blood. What kind of pig slaughters other animals, Jack? We don't know what kind of things live in the forest; we've only been here a couple of days. How do we know there _isn't _anything out there? What if we tell them that nothing is, and something happens? They'll never trust us again."

He stared. "You really think there's a beast out there?"

"Well-maybe." Ending sheepishly, she felt silly at what she had said. Of course there couldn't be a monster. It was a childish idea. However, there was always a risk with the unknown, and they knew NOTHING about this island. What if Sébastien hadn't simply imagined it?

"There is no monster. That's what you'll say to them. There is no animal, and we're perfectly safe." Jack finished decisively.

"I don't mean _monster_, literally, but predators do exist in tropical areas. We never know!"

"END of story, Annabelle," he snapped. "Now go and do what I said." Before she could say anymore, turned on his heel and walked away to find Sébastien. _What an asshole._ Huffing at his bossy retort, Annabelle stomped off in the other direction, towards the fire where the people were gathered. Of course. She should've known it would end like this. Jack and his big headed, egotistic bitchiness would get the best of him. He could never try to help her. He would always be trying to be one step ahead of her, to beat her in everything and be beloved leader over everyone. Sighing in frustration, she swallowed and prepared to make a calming, reassuring, and very false announcement. She hated herself for following Jack's notion, but to keep 24 unsettled teenagers sleeping at night, what other choice did she have?

* * *

The traumatized boy widened his baby blue eyes, gaping in dismay at what Jack had just told him.

"So, you don't believe me?" he sputtered crestfallenly. "Jack, I was doing it for you! I was trying to find a pig, so I could be your best hunter! And you won't believe me!"

"I _do _believe you, man," Jack tried desperately. "We just have to tell the others that what you saw isn't true. It's just the way things have to be."

"_Why? _Why would you want to keep it from everybody else? I mean, if there's something really dangerous out there, they should know, right?"

"You don't understand." His voice, now frustrated, rose higher. "They're scared right now, because of what you told them. You should've come to me without making a huge scene. Now they're all afraid. And-and they won't come hunting anymore! That's what's important, Bastien, remember?!" There. He had said it. It _was _true-it wasn't the only reason, but it was the main reason he cared about what the others thought. The scaredy-cats could cry in the corner all they wanted. But he couldn't afford his hunters not coming with him anymore, because of some stupid monster. Of course, Jack was worried too that something could really be in the jungle. He hadn't explored enough to be sure of exactly what kind of animals lived on the island.

Seeing that his attempts to convince Sébastien were futile, a sudden idea came to his head. The only way he was going to be able to keep his mouth shut, was to boost his self-importance up once again. His pride was crushed, and there was one thing Jack could think of that would recover it.

"We are the hunters," he began as animatedly as possible. "We have to protect everyone and keep them safe, because we're the most important ones on this island." Putting one hand on his shoulder, he went on excitedly, "Think about it, Sébastien. We have a duty to make sure that the rest of the people don't get harmed. The hunters are the only ones who can do it, since we know how to use spears and knives. And the only way to do that is for now, to keep this between us. Because we're going to find the monster. And we're going to kill it." Grinning widely, he nudged the startled boy so he toppled off the log he was squatted on. "How does that sound? We're going to KILL the monster! We're brave, we know how to use weapons, so why not? But first, we have to prove ourselves. And we've gotta get meat. We have to hunt a pig, first."

"So-so once we've caught a pig, we can go out and kill the big animal!" Sébastien squealed, shooting up with happiness.

"That's right. So from now on, no more mentioning the monster. Not to anyone, understand? I'll let you know when we can start looking for it." Bobbling up and down with enthusiasm, the boy skipped off while Jack smiled smugly. _A job well done. _Now Sébastien would be working extra hard, and future hunting trips were ensured. It was a double win. Rather proud of himself, he turned around whistling, to find a girl with matted blonde hair, arms crossed and staring narrow-eyed at him.

"Is that _really_ what Annabelle would want you to do?" Lucy questioned in her irritating, hostile voice.

"Shove off," he growled back, inches away from her face. "If you tell her, or anyone else, you'll regret it."

"Ooh, what are you going to do, yell in my face?" She replied rather coolly. But he could see the girl doing everything in her power not to falter. Smirking, he walked away wordlessly. He didn't even want to bother with Lucy. She and her pesky British ass would be taken care of soon enough. As he strode confidently past the bonfire, a look from Annabelle let him know that her work was finished. No, she wasn't happy about it. He hadn't intended for her to be. This was his time, and he was going to let her know that. Picking a banana casually off a lingering bunch, he took a bite of the sweet fruit with content, and disappeared into the forest. Being the leader of the hunters was tiring work, but the fun had yet to even begin, and Jack was intent on finding those damn pigs soon.

* * *

Giggling, Rosaline sat encircled by an evidently closed, gossiping trio of girls. She was in the very center of them all, the crown leader. Of course, even in a plane with 24 people, she would manage to have a band of followers. All the freshmen and sophomores in their school knew her.

Even from this distance, Caitlin could hear what they were saying, as she musingly picked at a mango 20 feet away. She remembered seeing the popular blonde in the hallways, never ceasing to be adored by her classmates, older boys, and even teachers. But something inside Caitlin felt a wave of sympathy for her sister, the tough and defiant Ruby. She knew that the twins were known for their contrasting personas, but she could see that the girl was an outsider, maybe the black sheep of their family. Ruby _did _have friends, who were all like her, but she just wasn't as loved. Surely, it had to affect her emotionally, regardless of her rugged exterior.

As Caitlin reflected over this, and the circle chatted noisily, Rosaline's eyes suddenly grew wide. "Guys, he's coming, he's coming!" Quickly twirling their hair and crossing their legs casually, the four girls sat composedly as the hunters' commander came strutting past them.

Of course the obnoxious boy would get her attention.

"Hey, Jack," Rosaline called out, waving sweetly.

"Sup." Jack slowed down, but didn't cease walking.

"How was the hunting trip?" She batted her lashes as she spoke, her words dripping like honey. "Did you boys have all your fun?"

"No, actually, not today." He frowned. "We didn't go today. We're trying again tomorrow."

"Oh, well, good luck." Pausing to give a mischievous smile, she added, "If you want, you can come here and have some other fun, too." Unfortunately, Jack either did not take the hint, or didn't hear her: he merely waved behind his back and continued on his way. The minute he was out of earshot, they began whispering rapidly to one another. The other hunters were following the leader, and Caitlin saw an icy flash in Rosaline's eyes as Hazell passed them. It was returned by a razor-edged glare. All of a sudden, Hazell pranced to the front of the line, her caramel ringlets bouncing behind her. Halting in front of Jack, she drew her fingers and said,

"There's something…something in your hair, Jack." As Rosaline's gang watched with slowly dropping mouths, Hazell mussed his blonde hair gently, it shining beneath the rays of sunlight. Making sure to finger through every section of his tresses, she turned her head to smirk triumphantly to the girls.

"Uh, thanks." His face was rightly perplexed, and he and the other boys went back to their hike up the beach. Hazell stood for a moment, basking in pleasure at the girls' seething looks. Then suddenly, all of their expressions turned to a united one of hatred at once. Annabelle, who may be Jack's biggest opponent on the island, was also the girl he paid most attention to. And she was coming their way.

To Caitlin's small amusement, the boy both Hazell and Rosaline had been vying for took notice of the girl, and sneered, probably instinctively. "Hey, Annabelle! Are you still scared of the _non-existent_ monster?" He shouted down. The girl only rolled her eyes at his usual antagonistic remark; Caitlin assumed she was so used to it by now. But the jealous pair who had been foes only seconds before, now shared an equally resentful look in their eyes: two cerulean and two a stunning hazel, as they stared daggers at their third, oblivious competition.

* * *

_She had only been 7. An innocent, juvenile age. But she could remember every bit of the horror. Torture. Screams. A long, blood-curdling cry that penetrated the night. Each sound was so clear in her ears._

_She had only been 7. But she had not been innocent to the corrupt, sinful, wickedness of mankind._

_The tall, sinister shadow appeared on the door. It roared, a thundering roar of dissatisfaction, as it kicked the body crumpled next to it. She shut her eyes tight, wrapping her hands around her knees. She winced as another kick was heard, more powerful this time. Her body was glued, paralyzed, to the floor. Clenching tiny fists, she tried so hard to block out the sounds of the monster. A shriek escaped her lips nonetheless, tears bursting out in terror as she watched the body take a blow to its face, the monster throwing a merciless punch. Even from the distance, she could smell the smell of blood, rusty and dizzying. _

_"GET UP! Get up, I said!" The voice boomed. "Little bitches like you have to learn some manners! Do you hear me?! MOVE your ASS, you dirty, motherfucking whore! MOVE IT!" Countless more words too filthy and violent for the young girl to know came screaming from the master bedroom. She clamped her hands over her ears, never looking as the frail, beaten figure crawled out slowly through the door. It reached up with its arms, even bonier than hers, covered in great purple bruises._

_"Joelle," her mother whispered in a hoarse, barely audible voice. Her thin lips, incredibly, pulled up into a weak smile. "My sweet, darling Joelle."_

_"M-mummy," she breathed, petrified tears pouring out of her eyes. She had seen her mother like this numerous times-sickly and fragile, her hair wild and matted with sweat and grime. She tried to stand, but only fell back on her shaking knees. Her daughter held up her chin in her fingers, trembling. As the woman collapsed, no longer able to stay conscious, the girl heard the thumping on the wooden floor, heavy treads of the monster coming out. She hurriedly lay still next to her mother, closing her eyes and playing dead. Too drunk to notice the uncontrollable trembling of the child, it slumped by with uneven footsteps. Grunting, it stopped. She held her breath. The smell of aged Milwaukee's Best was the last thing she remembered before her father hit punched a blow to her stomach, causing her to black out completely. _

_Nothing changed. Seasons went by, harsh winters then unspeakable summers. Three years later, and nothing had changed. Her mother lay blue and beaten once more; no more strength left in her body to even sit up consciously. Hearing the coarse, heavy breathing from her as her limbs hung limp over the rag-covered, squeaking wooden bed, Joelle stood. An unrecognizable look crossed her dark eyes: was it fury, or agitation, you couldn't tell. But one thing was for sure-it was no longer terror. She didn't have anything to fear, but to hate. Her innocence, any trace of naiveness that may have been in her as a child was erased. THUMP! The loud noise didn't even faze her as the animal who called himself father fell to his own king-sized bed next door. Probably collapsed after the heroin again. Joelle knew the whole routine. She also knew where the money was kept, as well as the drugs and alcohol. But smashing his stash had only infuriated him more, and he refused to punish anyone but her mother. She needed more. Something more, something worse._

_Midnight. The living room clock clanged 12._

He has to feel it_, she thought. He had to feel how she felt, feel the torture and the agony inflicted on her mother. The beast would not be able to get away._

_Time ticked on. He would soon awaken, and he would be even more savage._

_Blank glaze over her eyes, she walked, taking wavering steps. Her legs shook under her weight as they staggered towards the kitchen._

He deserved it. He was killing her mother, killing herself. It wasn't an option to back out now.

_She was barely conscious of herself as she picked up the object from the dusted counter._

Don't be afraid now. This had to be done. This had to be done, to save their lives.

_Her arm hung over her head like a rag doll, the girl limped back to the lair where the animal slept. Snores and grunts escaped from the looming room, the one she had always been forbidden to enter._

_Father. _It was a cruel joke. He was no father of hers. He was a cold-blooded killer. A killer who had destroyed their lives.

_She crept silently inside, and shortly found herself standing over his intoxicated body, passed out on the bed. Staring down at him once more, she felt for the first time power in her hands, and vulnerability oozing from the monster below her. Hanging over him, she finally had the upper hand. She was finally in the dominant one, the predator instead of the helpless prey. She held his life in her fingertips._

_Closing her eyes, she raised her arms, and plunged the glinting knife into his chest._

_Even amidst relief, she could not bear the splatter and gushing of blood as her father awoke, gasping in shock and pain. Agonized tears ran down her filth-caked face as she stabbed him again, and once more. On the fourth, his head fell lifelessly to the cotton pillows, red continuing to seep out of the punctured wounds._

_Turning around with bloodstained hands, Joelle saw her mother's eyes piercing into her in utter horror._

* * *

Gasping, Joelle stirred from her memories in alarm, shooting into an upright position. She hadn't thought about it, the thing she had done 5 years ago, in such a long time. Peace had managed to overcome her, but that night all the dreadful, spine-chilling memories had all returned at once. Why?

A rustling noise from the trees startled her into spinning her head around her. Nothing could be seen in the dark, and the noise didn't return. Nearby, Annabelle and Tessarose slept soundly in their newly finished shelter. Breathing a sigh of relief, she lay back in her soft pile of leaves, pondering to herself. One name appeared in her head: Maurice. _He's proven himself already to be so sweet, and caring, _she reasoned with herself. There was no reason to not trust him. And also, there was the way she felt about him…the way he made her feel simply by talking to her. She couldn't let her wretched past stand between that. Swallowing with realization, an inkling of a possibility that she may care about Maurice more than as a friend came to her head. Contemplating this, she dozed off into a deep sleep almost instantly.

* * *

Two weeks went by for the 24 stranded teenagers: slowly, but it did go by. Annabelle and her hut-builders-mainly Caitlin, Lucy, and some older kids-had finished decent shelters by the 8th day. Everyone at least had a roof over their heads now. Activity was fairly low on the island for the survivors, as they were all trying to take in the fact that they may not be rescued for a long time, even with the signal fire going. But not all the islanders were merely settling into their new environment, meandering through the days thoughtlessly. Some had their own plans.

Ruby had kept to her self-inscribed oath to not join the hunters. Instead, she had been disappearing into the woods on her own daily since their first night. Sharpening a stick to create a spear, making torches out of fire for nighttime, these were all tricks she already knew. Her hidden knife, of course, had been a valuable tool in survival. She could wander freely in the forest in the darkest of the nights, without anyone ever knowing about it. Except for that _one _time, when Joelle had woken up and nearly caught her in the trees, returning to camp close to twilight. But the girl had simply gone back to bed without a suspicion.

It would have been all over, if Ruby had been spotted that night, for it was the same night she had caught her very first pig. Yes, she had successfully killed a small, but juicy boar, before any of the "hunters" could. Not wanting to risk anything, she took a portion to the signal fire to cook, and discarded the rest of the animal in a hidden part of the forest. It was the best, most mouth-watering bite of pork she had ever tasted, as she sunk her teeth into meat for the first time in a week. Ruby wasn't known for her herbivorous nature, and had longed for some proper protein since she got on the island. Keeping the pig a secret from the others, she continued to hunt. By the 2nd week was over, she managed to kill 3 more, and not a soul had yet to find out.

Jack, on the other hand, was getting more and more frustrated by the day. As he had feared, some of his hunters became too scared to go on the trips daily, and others, like Hazell and Austen, had grown to be very pushy members of the group. The two both inputted plenty of ideas and somewhat forced suggestions, but they couldn't catch a single pig. Until, that is, the 13th day, their lucky day when a mother sow happened to be resting peacefully by the lake. After the mother, a piglet came around, and they succeeded in spearing it as well. Triumphant at last, the hunters, with their leader in the middle, all came marching down the beach gleefully. They gloated about everything they had done, and the honor of catching the first pigs. They had clearly been much influenced by Jack. He started explaining in every little detail, with proud delight, just how they had hunted down the prey. Annabelle tolerated the arrogant speech purely because she was glad they'd found a new food source-the islanders, especially the younger ones, were wiping out the berry bushes and fruit trees at the speed of light. Everyone seemed to be wanting more than their necessary share, and provisions were running out rapidly.

Only Ruby, who gave a little smirk as she watched the boy go on and on, knew that these weren't the first kills on the island.


	5. Chapter 4

**Chapter 4**

Annabelle and Jack were arguing again.

Not in the least surprised, Lucy rubbed her eyes in the blinding morning light as a usual crowd gathered around the two bickering teenagers. It was now well known amongst the islanders that the two were bitter rivals, and their fights only generated entertainment for the rest of the inhabitants. So far today, Annabelle appeared to be winning.

"That's NOT exactly what you told me when you said you'd 'take care of it!'" She exclaimed angrily.

"Well, I didn't say exactly how I'd deal with it, did I?" Jack glared back. "Does it really matter?"

"You said you didn't even believe in the stupid thing. So obviously, you lied to him!"

"Who cares?! It was the only way he'd keep his mouth shut. And if I recall, it was YOU who said we should keep everyone calm."

"But I also said we should be honest with them!" Annabelle sputtered. "And I was NOT the one who said we should just lie to everyone and tell them there's nothing to be afraid of. There could be something. There could be some kind of animal."

"Oh, like what, Annabelle?" Jack said exasperatedly. "A monster? The big bad wolf? What could possibly be out there?"

Lucy reckoned Annabelle had finally found out about Jack's mock encouragement to Sébastien about killing the beast. And the boy, in return, had gone around blabbing to someone. That kid was like a little girl-he couldn't keep his mouth shut.

Unfortunately, Jack chose this moment to whirl around and notice her standing with a very haughty, I-told-you-so expression. He charged down the beach furiously, and before she even realized, he was yelling into her face, pointing a blaming finger.

"You told her, didn't you? You just couldn't keep your stupid little mouth shut!"

"Don't look at me," she said, shaking her head. "It was all that boy's work."

"Don't try to blame it on Sébastien! I told you you'd regret it, and now you will."

"Wait!" Sébastien cried out from behind. Both turned to see the nervous boy who had interrupted them. "It wasn't her. I told-I told Fillip. Just him! I thought, since he was a hunter too, it would be okay. And he told the rest of the troupe, and...Well..." Lucy crossed her arms and raised an eyebrow at Jack, who merely growled under his breath. As he turned his attention away from her and began scolding the boy, she felt a sense of relief. She wasn't about to keep secrets for that tyrannical brat any longer. At least now, it was out in the open.

"I still don't like you, shrimp," Jack muttered nastily.

"The feeling's quite mutual."

"Well, what are we supposed to do now?" Annabelle put her hands on her hips, staring back and forth around the group. Another assembly had gathered around her, much like their first meeting, only now she stood in front of the very outskirts of the forest. A tree branch just barely brushed the back of her worn out tank top soiled with dirt.

"Is the island dangerous, or not?" Someone shouted. Others began speaking out as well, questions and worries flying out of their mouths all at once.

"Quiet!" She yelled. "Everybody be quiet! Just listen to what I have to say." When the crowd settled down, she continued, "We didn't want you to be worried about anything. Which is okay, because we don't know for sure that there _is_ anything to be worried about. But we don't know if there isn't anything to be worried about, either. So what I'm suggesting is, we all stay calm for now. I know, it's not going to be easy. But I have an idea. Me, Jack, and some other people will go out and see what's out there. Because none of us knows for sure. We can't be sure until we've gone to look ourselves."

"I think I can be sure of what's on the island."

A new voice. A stranger, low and alluring, spoke. Annabelle, Jack and everyone else spun around in astonishment. They stared at the spot in the forest behind them, where the voice had come from. Something tall slinked out from behind the trees, a single bare, bronzed leg taking a step out from between.

It was hard to say whether she was a woman, or a girl; impossible beauty exuded from her as she stepped into their full view. But her face was young, maybe older than them but not much older. Youth and maturity mingled together in her exotically goldened face. Sharp cheekbones ran under a pair of shocking eyes. They were blue, as blue as the Caribbean Sea, dark and shining indigo beneath arched brows. Long waves of hair as black as a raven tossed around her body, appearing rough and hassled, but still gleaming as the sunlight bounced against it. As if to complete her look, she put one arm on the swinging palm tree next to her, her long, seductive figure leaning against it with ease. Wearing a nonchalant expression, it was like she had no concern about how she had come out so suddenly and startled everyone, not having a worry in the world. She looked down at her nails, long and unruly, examining them in complete leisure.

The girls' reactions, inevitably, were greatly in contrast from the boys' reactions to this astonishingly beautiful teenager standing before them. Jack, Austen, Sébastien, Fillip, Thayr, and all the other males couldn't keep their mouth closed, hypnotized-all except Maurice, who looked surprised by the girl's sudden appearance, but not particularly entranced. He stood rather closely next to Joelle. Roger, Lucy noticed, was nowhere to be seen. He had probably wandered off on his own again.

Most of the girls, however, gave her a very dirty look; Rosaline and Hazell positively glowered, as Jack proceeded to goggle at her, drool nearly dripping down his mouth. Only Tessarose, Caitlin, Joelle and Annabelle seemed to have no negative reaction. Ruby frowned darkly as well, but not appearing to be out of jealousy, but suspicion. Her practical and heedful nature allowed her not to be resentful of this stranger, but distrusting.

Annabelle was the first to break from the mysterious girl's spell: clearing her throat loudly for everyone to pay attention, she asked loudly, "Who are you? Where did you come from?"

The bored look did not disappear from her face as she parted her full lips to speak. "I have watched all 24 of you on this island for many days." A thick, unfamiliar accent coated her voice. It was rich, and it aroused a very sultry, foreign aura around her. "I know who you are. Who all of you are. But you don't know who I am."

"_Thank you,_ for stating the obvious," Hazell muttered murderously under her breath.

"Well, do you think you can tell us who _you _are?" Annabelle said impatiently. "Because we're all a little shaken right now."

"You weren't on the plane," Caitlin suddenly called out quietly. Everyone turned to look at the normally silent young girl. Blushing slightly, she went on, "I don't remember you from the plane. You've been on this island before us."

"It was a big plane," the stranger replied simply. "You may not have seen me."

"So you _were_ on the plane?" asked Annabelle.

"Whether I was on the plane or not does not matter." She suddenly stood to her full height, looming over most of them with her long, slender legs. "Like I said, I know what is in the forest, and I can tell you what you need to know."

The assembly was silent. All ears were perked up in wonder and curiosity, waiting for the girl to proceed. Her expression was now sterner, her coquettish half-smirk falling ever so slightly. It was then that they all remembered the subject of why they had all gathered here: the unknown mystery inside the jungle.

"I wouldn't advise going out into the middle of the jungle. Not without proper weapons. Knives and sticks won't do any good against it. Of course, you never know where you might find yourself something to arm yourself with." Her eyes scanned the crowd as they sparkling hintingly. Lucy furrowed her brows, puzzled. What was she trying to say?

"It will kill you before you try to kill it. It's strong, fast, and intelligent. More powerful than even I first gave it credit for. I can't fight it. Nor can any of us."

"What _is _it?" Tessarose breathed.

"Have you seen this animal yourself?" Annabelle questioned.

"Not directly with my own eyes, but I know it exists. I've heard it, at nighttime." Moving towards them, the strange girl slipped one foot after another down the sand. "I don't have to see it to know how dangerous it is. It _will _destroy us. But not as long as we stay out of its way." Closing her statement, she pulled her disheveled hair to one side, and returned to her unconcerned stance.

Of course, Annabelle wasn't about to just let this go. Decisions had to be made, oh yes, and chief Annabelle was full of them. Rolling her eyes, Lucy watched as the leader took her position back in front of the group, and said, " Well, you've never seen this so-called monster, and if you haven't seen it, we can't be absolutely positive. I think we should still go and find out more about this."

"But you heard what she said," Jack muttered as if he were under a trance. "It's not safe."

"You said you're the big, brave hunters." She shrugged her shoulders. "If you think it's too risky for you, Jack, I'm sure I'll find others." But the way everyone else was whispering in fright, Lucy didn't believe anyone would go with her on the exploration.

"Alright, alright!" The enchantment was broken; his signature snarl returned to his face as he marched towards her. At a gesture of his fingers, other hunters scurried to follow him. Hazell led the way without hesitation.

"Don't go," Lucy heard Joelle said to Maurice strongly. "I think we should listen to what she said-what if you get hurt?"

"So? What's the matter? I-I mean, why do you care if I get hurt?" By now, the whole crowd was watching the two with great interest. In reply, she reached up on her tiptoes and kissed the boy quickly on the mouth. Whoops and whistles filled the air as an astonished and pleased smile came upon his face. He returned the kiss more fervently. After a minute, they both parted, blushing. Joelle was beaming with happiness.

Chuckling to herself, Annabelle gathered the hunters for the expedition into the forest, and the people gradually scattered, most of them seeming fairly assured. The newly formed couple wandered off to a log of their own, arms linked and shoulders leaning against each other. Many of the boys, however, lingered around to leer after the mysterious girl. Plenty of unanswered questions were still in the air: Who was she really, and how did she suddenly appear out of apparently nowhere? How long had she been in the forest, watching them? However, something intimidating about her strange, unexplained aura refrained them all from asking any more.

"Alright, Jack, Hazell, Thayr, Austen, and…where is Roger? He'd be great help, since he's the oldest and biggest in size."

"Disappeared on his own again, I guess," Jack suggested. "We'll be fine like this."

"I'd like to come, too." It was the girl, already holding up a long spear she had apparently snatched from the ground. After staring at her wondrously, Annabelle coughed and answered, "Sure. But I think that's Roger's. Give it to him once he comes back." Walking up the beach, she suddenly turned. "Hey, you never told us your name. What is it?" As the others waited curiously for the stranger's answer, she lifted a brow with a sly smile.

"I'm called Mathalina," she said. She pronounced it Mad-ta-LEE-na.

The hunters and Annabelle each in turn introduced themselves to the newcomer, and trekked into the forest, leaving Lucy alone to watch them with discontent. Naturally, she had been left out of the exploration squad. But at least they didn't know how good her hearing was. She could always just listen to every detail of their plans.

* * *

Splashing his face, Roger leaned over the gleaming water with crouched feet. The still lake rippled wildly as his fingers dipped in. Satisfyingly refreshed, he grabbed his water bottle and began filling it up. It were days like this, when the sun was just out but the heat was bearable, that he enjoyed coming to the lake the most. He could only visit this place during the day for hunting, and this morning everyone had been distracted by the quarrel between the head hunter and Annabelle. It was the perfect time. Roger deemed it pointless, all of their fighting, but as he sipped his water, memories of what his father would say came to mind:

_"Son, it is good to argue for what you want. You're going to need to learn how to fight, be more aggressive. You'll need it once you sign up." _Nodding robotically, he had merely sat on the couch listening to the on-going speech from the colonel. Roger just wanted to block his ears as he raved on about the usual: everything his son would have to endure once he enlisted. Like him. Following the same, proud path he took.

Thinking of his father didn't help his mission for tranquility. It only hung a grim cloud over his head. He didn't have a mother to support his opinions-she was long dead, killed by her own ill-ridden body. "Leukemia," the doctor had explained indifferently, when he was just ten years old. That doctor was a moron. Roger knew his mother had longer to live. He had felt it in his bones. After slamming papers off the table and leaving the hospital in anger and disappointment, he never tried to remember Mother again. Even at the funeral, he couldn't cry. But he knew that any life with her would have been better what he had now.

No one came to look for him. No one cared that he had vanished into the forest again. Good. It would give Roger time to be. Being around so many people exhausted his mind, and often he'd need solitude, to rest and collect his thoughts.

He inhaled in fresh air, one of the many parts he loved about the island. Outdoors was where he spent most of his time, getting away from schoolwork and hioverbearing father, and here Roger could enjoy it every day. So for that morning, he sat, breathing in the calm, stillness of the water glistening below his feet. Everything was at peace. Nothing could faze, or distract him now. He leaned back, slowly, closing his eyes to complete the wonderful moment.

* * *

"So, _MataLEEna._" Jack hurried to walk along the gorgeous being. His blue eyes shined with excitement, bare abs flexed even more than usual. Only now did Annabelle notice that what the new arrival was wearing: a linen garment, with the center hacked off to reveal her bare bronzed midriff, was draped around her lengthy body. When she saw the back, she realized it was actually a cropped tank and a skirt that reached just above her knees, and then fell behind her legs like ripples. Everything about her appearance gave the impression that she'd been living on the island for a long time. Nonetheless, despite her unkempt, tangled black locks and primitive clothing, she was breathtaking; clearly more beautiful than any of the other girls on the island. Even Hazell, with her flawless curls and stunning eyes, or popular Rosaline, couldn't compete with it. For this reason, Annabelle assumed, the hazel-eyed girl was walking at the back fuming while even her stepbrother ogled at Mathalina. His expression was one of pure, simple desire, while Jack's was lustful and coveting. Dangerous. Following the girl, he continued to flirt uncontrollably. Only today it was much off his game. "Where'd you get the outfit? Cuz it doesn't exactly look like you picked it up at the mall." He looked her up and down with a smug grin. "But I doubt anything would clash with that body of yours, huh, sweetheart?"

Mathalina didn't show signs of displeasure at this, but merely replied, "I made it myself. Since my old clothes weren't very suitable for this environment."

"Yeah, I'm not so comfy in these jeans, either. Maybe we should all take off a few layers." The girl did not react to his devilish wink, and Jack scowled in dissatisfaction. Next, it was Austen's turn to have a go with her. 15 minutes into the forest, and every boy had taken their chances to toy with and allure the girl. Each time, she drank it all in without any sort of reaction, not embarrassed or annoyed, or flirting back. Nevertheless, the boys didn't give up: and the only two other girls on the trip had been force to watch it, Annabelle in exasperation and Hazell in jealous wrath. So they were both glad, when the group finally reached the heart of the jungle. Or at least, where Mathalina had pointed out. They weren't quite in, however. According to her, it was much too dangerous to approach any closer.

"This is as far as I'll take you," she said firmly. "I won't go past this place." She pointed to the long wall of vines covering up the way into the very center of the island. The trees all enclosed around this area, darkening it by shading it from the sun. The hunters gazed around with curiosity, and Annabelle knew then that she had to make a decision.

"Be very, very still," she whispered. Bending her body low, she crept along the bushes, taking caution not to rustle a single leaf. After watching for a moment, the others began to follow her actions. Mathalina stayed behind, keeping her word and not moving an inch closer to the vines. Annabelle peeked her eyes through the branches. Nothing moved. A songbird overhead swooped down, chirping excitedly, causing Thayr to nearly jump in fright. As the hunters waited, she and Jack moved in closer to the barrier dividing them from whatever lived behind. It was then that a low, sputtering sort of noise could be heard. Leaning in with her ears perked, Annabelle could make out hissing sounds, something spattering around like hot oil.

"I wouldn't go in there if I were you," drawled Mathalina, leaning against another tree just like she had before. Complete tranquility and perhaps even boredom crossed her face.

"And what makes you such an expert?" Hazell hissed dangerously.

"The two closest, Annabelle and Jack, should be able to hear how vicious it is, yes?"

"All I hear is…these hissing noises," breathed Jack, eyes fixed on the gaps between the bushes. "I don't really know what it is."

"Then we can only assume that it's not something to be messed with," Mathalina concluded. "I think we should go back now." Annabelle wasn't sure of what to do at this point, but the new girl's words seemed fairly rational; it wasn't safe at this point, with their primitive weapons and few numbers, to venture into the home of whatever could be inside. She retreated, gesturing for the hunters to follow. Austen looked as if he was eager to explore and find out more; he followed grudgingly. From the way his smug smile had vanished, Jack was obviously scared. She couldn't help but smirk as the hunters' leader strode back down the hill faster than anybody else. At the least, this mysterious "beast" had deflated his ego a little bit. It was doubtful that he'd be hunting near the jungle center any time soon.

But the pleasure of this didn't last long-everybody jolted in alarm as a huge, dark boar leapt out of the bushes and ran across the clearing they had been walking through. When it disappeared, excited chatter ran through the group.

"That was the biggest pig I've seen on the island!" Hazell exclaimed, stunned.

"Dude, that thing was HUGE. I bet we could feed everybody for two days with it!" raved Austen excitedly.

Jack could only stare open-mouthed after the creature. But Annabelle could see he was already formulating a plan in his mind. Another strategy, another attempt at catching a pig. She wasn't sure he really had what it took to kill a pig. The first few were probably just lucky strikes.

"There are plenty more where that came from," said Mathalina musingly. Predictably, she was the only one who had kept poised, barely flinching while the pig darted away.

"Alright…well…" Annabelle gasped, trying to catch her breath again. "Let's get back to camp and let them know what we found." The troupe began walking across the clearing, and back into the familiarity of the beachside forests. As they hiked, Mathalina approached her silently. Until she was at her side, Annabelle didn't even notice the stealthy girl slithering next to her.  
"Oh, hey, I didn't see you," she said, startled.

"It's alright. I just have to tell you…" She leaned in close to her ear, and lowered her voice even more. "I do not think it's a smart idea, to tell everyone exactly what we've found. They might get even more worried, and nervous. I think it would be best to keep the details to ourselves, for now, and tell them what they need to know."

Annabelle stopped, turning to look at her in mystification. "And what _is_ it that they need to know?"

"Just that there is something in the very center of the jungle, and no one should ever go near it. I know that as long as we don't approach the center, it won't harm us. That, I think, is all that they need to know. For the time being." Without warning, Mathalina dashed off to the front of the line, leaving her to ponder. There was something exceptionally wise and discerning about the way this girl spoke, and it seemed like it could convince even Annabelle of things. And she wasn't one to be easily persuaded. Trudging through the dirt slowly, she allowed everyone to follow Mathalina in the lead, giving herself time to think over her proposition. This newcomer was sure to be of great assistance on the island, she decided, no matter where exactly she had come from; it would be smart to take her words in consideration. After all, Annabelle knew it would become difficult sooner or later to take charge of all the teenagers on her own. Jack was too stubborn to be of any help, always vying for his own ideas, and she couldn't think of anyone else with enough leadership potential. So Mathalina, and her superior knowledge about the island, would have to do.

* * *

"Caitlin!" Racing down the beach with every bit of energy in her little body, Lucy screamed her name in delight. "Caitlin! Hey, Caitlin, what are you up to?" Looking up at her friend, Caitlin drew circles on the sand with her fingers. She waited patiently for the girl to take a seat next to her on the log. "Gosh, it's really hot today, isn't it? I love the sun, though. Say, Caitlin, what do you think of that new girl, Mathalina?"

"Is that her name?" She mused. Caitlin had already known, of course, but her head was up even higher in the clouds today. Humming cheerily as Lucy went on about the new, mysterious arrival, she saw Joelle and Maurice laughing nearby on another piece of driftwood. Seeing the latest, happy couple lifted her lips into a smile. It was so nice to see that even in a remote place like this island, love could be found. As she watched the two cuddle into each others' arms intimately, her friend snapped her finger in her face.

"Hullo? Caitlin? Have you been listening to anything I've been saying?"

"Yes, of course." Her voice was absentminded as her eyes peered up into the matching-colored skies. "The weather's beautiful today, isn't it, Lucy?"

"Yes…I suppose it is." Lucy stared at her strangely, and then quickly continued with her own topic. "Did you hear what Mathalina said? She thinks there's a monster in the forest. A monster! She must be at least 16 years old, and she believes in such a thing! If you ask me, it's all a bunch of nonsense. Don't you think so, Caitlin? Caitlin?" But Caitlin did not reply. Fluttering her lids, she slowly closed her eyes, drifting off into her own, mindless dream. In the dream, everything was hazy, yet she could see clearly where she was going. Everyone on the island, Annabelle, Jack, Lucy, Mathalina, they were all floating in the sky. The clouds changed colors, from pure ivory, to violet, to a vivid canary. The sights and shades were stunning in her head.

When she opened her eyes, her friend was stomping off in the other direction, huffing. Immediately, Caitlin felt bad for ignoring her. The girl clearly was clearly no stranger to neglect and scorn: any more would probably end in unpleasant results. Lucy was actually quite a genius; she was definitely the most knowledgeable one on the island. It was just unfortunate to see how the others, especially Jack, treated her, when she had so much to offer them. Even Annabelle didn't always entirely defend her. Needless to say, Caitlin respected the older girl's decisions, but everyone made mistakes. This time, her mistake had been overlooking Lucy.

As she got up and began following her footsteps in the sand, she passed by a blissful Joelle buried in Maurice's shoulder. It soothed her, to know that amidst times of distress and panic, stranded on a deserted island, at least two people could be happy.

* * *

Cracking up at her new boyfriend's silly jokes, Joelle nearly fell to the ground. Maurice watched the lovable, free-spirited girl in fascination. With what luck did he find such an amazing person in a place like this? He couldn't help gazing at her in admiration. When she noticed, she stopped and flushed lightly, her cheeks tinting a rosy color. It was so lovely. She was the prettiest, happiest girl he knew. Her body radiated with carefree joy.

"So, how come we've never talked before?" He asked once the laughing had stopped. "I mean, I know I saw you in biology across the room a few times, but I don't remember ever talking to you. Did you know who I was, before here?"

"Not really," she admitted. "I guess we just had our differences, you know. Never really had a chance to mash."

"Tell me, Joelle," he said, changing the subject. "How are you such a cheerful person? I mean, you are so optimistic, and just altogether so peaceful. I don't think I've ever seen you in any mood other than happy."

"Hm…I don't know, maybe it's just this place. I love it here. Maybe this island is making me a cheerful person."

"So, you weren't a cheerful person before?" A sudden realization hit him. "Hey, I actually do remember you. You were always so quiet, and you had Bryan as a lab partner. Maybe it is the island, cuz I don't remember you being like this."

A sad smile spread across Joelle's face, and Maurice could see thoughts memories returning to her. She didn't look grim, but a little more unnerved.

"I'm sorry. Did I bring up something wrong?"

"No, no, it's fine. I think…I think I want to talk about it." He waited quietly as she shifted closer to his body, looking up at him.

"Then talk about it. You can trust me, Joelle."

"I know I can…" Her voice drifted off into a soft, melancholy tone as she began speaking. "I've always had trouble trusting people. It was very hard for me to trust even you, Maurice, but I could tell you were a good guy. I haven't known any good guys all my life. And I'm not just talking boyfriends, I mean…I haven't known very good family."

"Family…as in your father?"

She nodded slowly. "My father…he-he died when I was 10."

"Oh, I'm so sorry." Maurice patted her sympathetically. He might have predicted this coming. But nothing prepared him for what the flurry of words that came out of Joelle's mouth next.

"I killed him." Before he could scream something out in shock, she hurriedly continued, "For as long as I could remember, he abused my mother and me day and night. He tortured her, and he nearly killed her every single day. And I had to watch it happen. But she couldn't do anything about it. She was too weak. So by the time I turned 10, I was…insane. I think I really did go crazy. Everything he did to her, all of the pain and the screaming…it literally drove me out of my mind. One night, I just couldn't take any of it, so I just…killed him. I killed my own father, Maurice." Blinking, she took in a deep breath. "I killed my father. But he was no father."

Maurice couldn't speak. He simply gaped, his mouth opening and closing like a fish. Joelle…how could someone so bright and beautiful have such a dark past?

"How did you…how did you cope with…I mean how did you deal with something like that?" He finally said, dazed and confused. "And-and how does that _possibly _explain how cheerful you are?! How can you be _so _happy, so bright and cheerful now-"

"When I'm a murderer?" She finished.

Backtracking immediately, he stammered, "I didn't mean it like that. I swear, I'm just lost, Joelle. What happened to make you such a…a peaceful person? After all that horrible stuff?"

"Well…it's true. I did kill someone. And for a very long time, I had to live with the fact that I was a murderer, the fact that I'd murdered my own father. After that, my mother was so horrified of me. She knew I'd become completely mental and out of control. So she shipped me off to an institution for the criminally insane." She chuckled humorlessly. "I was charged for patricide and put under 'special care' for 2 years. After they let me out, I went through some pretty intense therapy for another 2 years. I've only been off for a year now. I think, between that, my mom finally realized I'd done something good for her. I'd saved her life, and she understands that now. But that's not why I'm able to be so calm all the time."

"Then what is it?"

Joelle breathed in deeply. "It was just before I got on this flight. Right before we boarded the plane, my mom told me something…something that changed everything…

_She wasn't listening. Her mother spoke, rambling on about safety on her very first flight, and going on a big trip by herself, but she wasn't listening. Words always tuned out of her ears like a low, faint buzz. Her mind was like a big, complicated maze, and Joelle hadn't let anything in from the outside for 5 years. It would only muddle it up more. Nothing from other people's lips could be trusted. Not even her own mother, who had forsaken her and blamed her for something she couldn't help for so long. Finally, she had realized what Joelle had done was for her own good. But it was a little late._

_"Joelle, listen to me, there's something important I have to tell you before you get on that plane."_

_"Listening, Mom." She wasn't. Of course she wasn't. The girl simply hummed a tune in her head to block out the noise. _

_Mother grabbed her wrists vigorously, wide grey eyes glinting up at her. Glaring, she wrenched away in vexation. Never before had she seen so much strength in her mother, even years after their tormentor had disappeared. _Thanks to me.

_"I want you to _really _listen. I am telling you, this is the most important thing I'll probably ever tell you, sweetheart. It's something you should've known years ago. Before you…"_

_"Go on, mother. Just tell me. What have I done wrong? Something other than what I did, something even worse?" Her eyes flashed furiously, blinking back tears._

_"No, no, this is not your fault. This is my fault, Joelle, all my fault. I should've told you so long ago…your father-" at the mention of the unspeakable monster, she flinched in horror. "The man you killed is _not _your father, Joelle. He-he was my husband. But not your father." Releasing the woman, she stared at her in shock. Blubbering mindlessly, she sputtered, "But, b-but, who…?"_

_"Your real dad and I separated when you were a baby. I haven't seen him since, and I have no idea where he is now. Then I married him…the man you've known your entire life to be your father is just a stepfather. Nothing more." As Joelle continued to gape open-mouthed, her body frozen rigid to the ground, Mother grabbed her shoulders eagerly. "Don't you see, Joelle-you never have to think about it again. Yes, it did happen, and you did kill that man 5 years ago, but you never have to feel the guilt of killing your own father again. I should've told you before, I really should've, but there was just no chance. And I didn't want to mention it until I knew you were better. I'm so sorry. I'm sorry for-for everything I did, and for not protecting you from _him_… I'm sorry, Joelle. I love you." She was so stunned, she couldn't pull away as her mother wrapped her in a tight, emotional hug. Tears of realization, understanding poured out as Mother sobbed into her shoulders. Everything she said was true…she could finally be free. Free from the pain, and the guilt. Free from the ropes binding her down to that terrible night, when she mercilessly put a knife through the man she fully knew was her own father…All of it was suddenly gone. Knowing this, Joelle vowed at that moment, that once she got off this plane, she would finally be at peace. She would let herself go, and once and for all enjoy true tranquility, wherever the plane led her._

"You see, Maurice, now…now I know now that I didn't kill my father." She stared off blissfully as she spoke. "I did kill _someone,_ and that'll never change. But I don't have to carry that extra guilt on my shoulders anymore. I did it to save my mother, and to save me. So I'm giving myself permission, to start living a happy life." Joelle glanced at the boy sitting next to her, her face lifting into a small smile. "And I told myself, no matter where the plane takes me, I'll let myself be free. So here I am. And I'm keeping my word." Letting out everything to someone else, finally revealing her dark, miserable secret that had haunted her dreams for 5 years, was the best finish on her path to freedom. Now that the person she trusted most on the island knew all of her history, and wasn't judging her. Maurice pulled her into his arms, mussing her hair and rubbing the back of her head gently. "It's okay, Joelle," he whispered into her ears. "You're secret's safe with me. I told you, you can trust me. Nothing's changed." His voice comforted Joelle, and elatedly, she lowered her head slowly onto his shoulders, wrapping slender arms around his waist. Feeling the warmth radiating from the loving boy's body, she felt more joy gushing inside her than ever before, threatening to cast out from inside her like a beam of sunshine. She nearly wanted to cry; someone cared about her enough, someone could really look past the horrible thing she had done and still want her. Everything was okay now. She was safe, safe and at peace in his arms. Her eyes closed naturally, their hands and fingers tightly intertwined.

* * *

Mathalina moved like a panther, striking here and there around the forest under the setting sun. Her legs were bent, eyes fixed on emptiness as the girl slipped and slithered between the trees. She could smell the familiar smell of the lake, only a few kilometers away. It was close. How she remembered the nights she had spent by this lake. How much she liked it, she could recall.

After the rest of the group had returned to camp, Mathalina had chosen to stay behind, stating her wish for a little privacy. Being amongst so many people, following the years of solitude she had spent on the island, was certainly overwhelming. She could use a little time to herself, and the jungle was a comforting place for her to be. Dashing across the grass clearing again that she had known for three years, wind blew back her raven hair. The _whoosh_ of cold air was wonderful on the face. As much as she loved the tropical environment, it just got too warm sometimes. Knowing warmth and heat all her life, from the place she grew up, Mathalina would care for some change in atmosphere.

Indeed, she knew her way around the forest: the lake appeared almost immediately after the clearing. Dancing nimbly down the rocky ground, her fingers touched the water and her naked feet dug into the dirt. Breathing in the fresh air, it felt good to just be back in her habitat once more.

A rustle in the trees caused her to spin, raising her arms in preparation for attack. Bare hands were all she had, but she had survived without weapons before, and if it really became necessary, the spear was discarded only meters away. Moving silently, she crept back into the forest in search of the noise.

Lifting up a heavy branch and peeking through the leaves, she found herself falling into a meadow. The sun hardly reached this part of the forest-evening was stimulated as the evergreens cast a circle around the field of grass. Small in size, but ultimately beautiful, this place would be the perfect haven to sit and think for a while. If someone else had not already been there.

Approaching the figure in caution, she could make out a boy, no older than her sitting on his knees and hands. The handsome face wore an astonished expression, startled by the girl's sudden appearance. His hair, Mathalina could see, was dark chocolate, his lips flawless in shape and form. A pair of forest green eyes stared back at her, unable to look away. For an eternity, neither broke the connection, gazing at the other in stunned wonder. It was as if they were drinking in each other's beauty, taking in the strange, alluring aura that both possessed.

"I apologize," began the girl, and deeming that this boy was safe to talk to, she reached out her hand. "If I've disturbed you. But I quite enjoy being alone in the forest myself." He didn't seem to know what to say. Finally blinking, the boy accepted the hand and tried to pull himself up. Another look of surprise crossed those beautiful eyes when she pulled him up easily, as if he were a feather. She resisted the urge to smirk to herself-no one ever expected the strength she had in her slender arms.

"I'm Mathalina." Her breath was warm on his face, transfixed by its hard, coarse glamour.

"Roger," he murmured back. His sight didn't leave her skin, glowing beneath the setting sun. "My name's Roger."

"It's very nice to meet you, Roger." Each word she spoke like an individual sentence, pronouncing slowly and steadily.

"It's...a pleasure." She put her finger on his lips, so no more words would be spoken. Pulling her lips up into a sly, half-smile, Mathalina turned on her feet, and pranced back into the trees. The boy named Roger remained on his knees, mouth still wide-open as she disappeared like a cloud of smoke. But the girl knew he'd find her again.


	6. Chapter 5

**Chapter 5**

The next, third week on the island went by with ups and downs as the newcomer, Mathalina, put down roots in their camp. The hunting trips were not discontinued, but rather they seemed fueled by their cravings for meat and action. This was good new for Jack; however, it only brought disgruntlement for Annabelle. It frustrated her to see the hunters go out into the forest, and kill nearly every day for their own pleasures. They rarely helped out with anything else, leaving her and a few other devoted islanders-Caitlin, Lucy, Joelle, and Maurice- to watch the fire. Day and night, the five never let the signal fire go out. No matter what happened, someone always looked after it, ensuring that the huge billows of smoke could be seen. Getting rescued from the island was crucial, Annabelle knew, and it was her determination to be spotted by a plane. After two weeks, the people were growing a bit stubborn. They couldn't remember quite as well as before that they were stranded, lost in a place they didn't belong, and now simply lounged around lazily. And it was her job to make sure they didn't stay that way for long.

Clouds overcast the normally crystal blue skies that morning. Fighting back a yawn, Annabelle climbed up to her feet. She had been on the island so long without a watch, she could now tell what time of day it was simply by looking outside. The sun was risen about 45 degrees in the air. It must have been around 8, 9 in the morning. The camp was already bustling with activity, to her disgruntlement. Being the one everyone looked up to for decisions, she hoped she could at least be responsible enough to wake up earlier than the group. But they were all accustomed to the time change.

In her sight, Rosaline fixed her hair by the water in a bikini top and shorts. She must have found some luggage in the little time she _wasn't _sitting on the beach and admiring herself. Two other girls joined the irritating blonde, and Annabelle turned her sight to her twin sister Ruby. The two couldn't be more different. Ruby stood alone, sharpening the long spear in her hand. Even though she had all the signs of a potential hunter, the auburn-haired girl had yet to join Jack's group. She seemed more like an individual, and apparently had no intentions of following anyone.

"Annabelle! Annabelle, we've got an injury!" The shout behind her startled her into whirling around. Jack ran down from the trees; preceding him were Austen and Thayr, each carrying an arm and leg of a body. Maurice lay limp in their arms, supported by all their strength. His eyes were closed, and a long, bloody scratch ran down his chest.

As a crowd gathered around the returning hunters, Joelle caught a glimpse of the injured boy. "Maurice!" she screamed, shoving through the people vigorously to get to her boyfriend. The two boys laid down Maurice on the sand, and Annabelle hurried to the group. Her eyes widened in shock as he came into full view.

"Jack, you guys were hunting in the morning again?!"

"We had to, it's the best time!" Jack argued back. "We were trying to catch the big boar, the one we saw the other day."

"Ugh, _God, _how did this happen?" She wasn't a doctor, and had no idea how to treat such a wound, but she still bent over the boy and examined it. The gash looked like long track, not caused by anything sharp but rather kicked heavily. Layers of skin peeled off along with the blood. There were also bruises, blue and purple, all around the area.

"He tried to go for the pig, one-on-one, and it jumped him. It kicked him in the chest, and pawed him, I think."

"You let him do it on his own?"

"_No,_" Jack said, frustrated. "It wasn't any of our fault. He wanted to, he just ran at the thing with his spear. If it wasn't for Roger, who"-he turned to look around, and finding no one, he continued-"is not here right now, he'd be dead. Roger kept the thing from trampling him."

As if called on cue, the oldest boy leapt out of the forest, and came racing down to the scene. Mathalina also emerged, drifting calmly from the other side of the beach.

"Roger, is he-" Before Annabelle could finish, he was already inspecting Maurice furiously. His fingers were covered in blood, as well as his button-up shirt.

"Roger, did you take care of it?" Jack said.

Between feeling the boy's heart beat and running a finger down the bruises, he replied, "Yeah," without looking up. Finally, he stood. "We're going to have to disinfect it. Clean it up, bandage it with some sort of cloth, and lay him down somewhere comfortable. He shouldn't be moving for a couple of days."

"What are you, a doctor?" Austen mumbled.

"I'm in the Level 2 Health and Safety class. You should know. You're in it." He ran to find supplies for the procedure while Austen sheepishly looked down. It was the most anyone had ever heard Roger say, and they all shared a moment of surprise. All except Mathalina, whom Annabelle noticed was wearing a small smirk.

"Let me see him!" An anxious Joelle leaned down and took his face in her hands. "The pig did this, didn't it? He never should have gone out there, oh, no…Maurice…"

"He's going to be fine, Joelle, I promise. It's a scratch, that's it." Annabelle's attempts of reassuring her was not successful.

"Just a very long, very big scratch!"

"He was being stupid, and impulsive," Hazell hissed into her ear. "It was his own fault."

"He's not _like_ that," insisted Joelle. "He's not impulsive, and he knows what he's doing."

"Then today he made a mistake, didn't he? That idiot, throwing himself at the pig to impress everyone."

"Shut UP," Jack interrupted the rising tension as Joelle nearly stood to her feet, glaring.

"Oh, you're telling me to shut up, Jack?" Hazell said, now turning on the hunters' leader. "Why don't you make me? What are you gonna do, kick me out?" Her intense eyes stared threateningly into his.

"….No," he said quietly. "I can't do that. We need to get meat. And we can't go without everybody. So if you don't shut up, we're not going hunting."

"NOBODY is going anywhere," Annabelle shouted firmly. She motioned for Thayr and Austen to raise the body. "Take him into his shelter. We'll wait for Roger to come back, and let him do…whatever he can do." Silently, the others agreed. The sudden collaboration was quite remarkable as a majority of the group, even those who hadn't been participating much in activities around the island, aided in taking care of Maurice. While he was being moved by the boys into the shelter, the rest gathered water and clean fabric. It was soon transformed into a makeshift medical station. From the way the hunters gaped at the blood oozing out of his stomach, it didn't look like they'd be going on another trip soon.

Roger returned carrying the first aid kit found in the plane wreckage. People immediately parted to let him in. As he concentrated all his efforts on cleaning up the blood, taking care not to touch the scrape, Annabelle could see the others watching the reserved boy: accepting him, no longer seeing him as a cold and distant stranger. For the first time, he was involving himself, and had proved to be a helpful person. No one could ignore how much energy he was pouring into Maurice. And apparently, neither could Mathalina, for she crept up behind him without a word and said, "May I help?" Roger looked back at the girl, stunned, and merely nodded. She washed her hands with the bottled water, and began to wrap bandages around his abdomen. Working smoothly and quickly, her fingers tied then ripped off the end of the dressing. The minute she was finished, Maurice gasped, hacking and lifting his body up from the bed of grasses.

"Where am I? Joelle-Joelle, where are you?" Promptly, Annabelle brought water to his lips, and he drank heavily.

"How do you feel?" She asked.

He screamed painfully in response. "AGH-my chest! Its hurts, it hurts!"  
"It'll be fine, you were scraped pretty badly by the boar. But Roger fixed you up. Joelle's outside, if you want to see her." As she went out to call the girl, Maurice looked up at Roger in amazement. "Thank you. For helping me. And I know you saved me from the pig, back in the jungle. Thanks for that, too." He didn't speak, but the slightest twinkle appeared on his lips as Joelle came bursting into the shelter.

"Maurice!" She shouted joyfully.

"Hey, Joelle," he replied faintly, but a smile came upon his face. They hugged, and everyone left the reunited couple to have a moment to themselves. Outside, Annabelle saw Jack pacing back and forth, almost as if he was in a hazy dream.

"Jack," She said. "What are you doing?"

He looked up, blue eyes expanding. "Is Maurice okay?"

"Yeah, he's fine. He'll just have to rest for a couple of days, but he should be fine." Annabelle paused. "What are you doing out here instead of with him?"

"I-um, well…I just can't be in there. Hospitals and blood and that stuff. I can't really…" his voice trailed off tensely. "Anyways. Good. So he'll be okay."

"Yeah. Thanks for caring."

Jack snorted. "I-I just can't afford to lose any hunters." But there was a second of genuine concern in his eyes. Just one second.

"Sure." Sarcasm tinted her voice, making him frown. "You should thank Roger for everything, don't you think? He was pretty brave today, saving Maurice's life. I've never seen him so active around here."

"I didn't say I wasn't grateful," he spat. "I said, if it weren't for Roger, he'd be dead. I _know _what he did." Rolling her eyes, Annabelle turned on her feet and walked away without an answer. Jack was clearly unwilling to credit Roger for his heroic deeds. He was a jealous ass.

The morning events played over in her head as she strode mindlessly down the beach. How had she taken control of everything so fast? One minute she had been worrying about waking up late, and next thing she knew she was looking over Maurice assuringly, taking care of him. She had even organized a medical area in a small tent made of overhanging branches and leaves. Words her mother had spoken came to mind: _Annabelle, you were born to be a leader._ That was a night she had share with her parents, drinking steaming hot chocolate in the living room. Her mother had told her stories of Pakistan, where she lived as a child before immigrating to America. It had been a chance at freedom, at a new beginning, she had said. A cliché story, told by many, but they were all true. Her originally Andorran mother had lived in a country where she was stripped of all rights a woman deserved, along with the rest of the female population. However, being one of the fortunate ones, she managed to escape and come here, where she met and married a Jewish-American man. Annabelle knew him as father.

Both her parents were hard-working people. Her father always pushed her to do and be her best. _"I know you have what it takes to lead others, Ana,"_ he had said that same night. "You are strong. People will look up to you." Indeed, everything on the island seemed to be playing out according to her parents' words. At the time, she had just smiled, confused. Mostly focused on her studies, she wasn't exactly a leader at school. She had a few, loyal friends, but Annabelle had never been popular. It was like her mother and father knew about what would happen on the island. Maybe they were right. Maybe this was where she was supposed to be. Never had she felt so in her place as she did on this island.

But rescue was still her main goal, and she still hiked up the mountain for her turn at the signal fire.

* * *

Ever since his amazingly calm feat as both saviour and doctor, Roger was now looked upon as the de facto medical authority figure. However, since the event, he had also gone back into his own little shell. People didn't try to approach him; although they did seem to put more trust in him after what happened. An eternally grateful Maurice was babbling to everyone about how he had saved his life. Both he and Joelle now had an unspoken alliance with Roger. They knew that if anything happened to them, they could count on him to have their backs.

The dark boy shook his head. _Idiots. _They didn't know him nearly enough.

"I liked that side of you," the girl named Mathalina spoke, appearing at his side from seemingly behind him. Thick, black hair swirled around her uncontested beauty as she stood in front of him. "Helping everyone, being a part of the group. I am not a team person myself. But you…it looked good on you." Her voice was nonchalant: almost as if she was speaking to herself about the weather. Words she spoke dripped with a casual, uncaring ease. Plain. Mater-of-fact. The same clothes she had worn the night they met blew across her knees, her legs. Bronzed calves, silky and perfect. How were they so smooth? The rest of her looked like she had been on the island for years: but on her legs, not a hair in sight. Roger gazed back at the girl. No, at the young woman. There was more to her than beauty. There was something stone-hard, something mature and intelligent behind her face. It made him crave more.

"I don't have," he began, not looking at her, "a _side. _I'm just me." Why was he not reaching for her, grabbing her when he had the chance? Why was he wasting his time, and uttering stupid words that would merely turn her away? Sexual desire was one of the few desires he had: he wasn't a selfish person, he just wanted what all males did. But this time, this time it was different.

"I know you, Roger. I know what kind of person you are. And maybe you don't have two sides, but who you're trying to appear isn't who you are." Wisdom rang in her low, accented voice.

"You don't know me," he insisted. "I met you only days ago. You can't-you can't know me." Swallowing, he stared at her, and she stared back for a moment. Just a moment. That was all he needed to drink her in.

"Alright," she gave in easily, not flinching as she looked down to inspect her nails. When her eyes raised again, they were even brighter than before. Was that possible? "I don't know you. So I will find out." Exchanging silent looks, the boy suddenly whirled on his feet. Without looking back, he walked away with stinging eyes.

_She doesn't know me. No one knows me. No one knows, no one knows…_A dangerous tear fought its way to his eyes as his mother came to mind, and he wiped at it furiously.

* * *

_It was true, _Mathalina thought as the boy trudged away. _I do know you. I know everything about you. I know where you were born, your full name, what school you go to, and I know who you are. _It was strange to see the back of his head, a name that had only weeks ago meant nothing. Just another life portfolio to go through. She had studied each and every file in her stack, and all 24 faces (along with everything known about them) clung to her mind permanently. And none of it would ever be forgotten. Yes, she knew exactly who Roger was, and how he had behaved since his mother's unfortunate death. She even had the exact date of the death, the hospital she was treated in, and the name of her cancer physician.

It had perturbed Mathalina, at first, when she learned details of the misery and ordeals each one of them had gone through. Only at first.

_Poor Joelle. _Musing, she flicked a grain of sand off her clothes. The other three sets of the outfit lay buried and hidden in the middle of the jungle. Everything would be safe there, now that the hunters all believed it was where the monster lived. _Monsters are everywhere, darlings. So innocent. So easily deceived. _Of course, she knew all there was to know about the island, and they did not. It also helped that Mathalina had provided with the necessary tools and resources. Still, part one of her mission was complete. Lying to them was the only way, and it was all intertwined into the elaborate, slowly escalating plan. The rest would eventually be fulfilled without difficulty. Watching them closely, she could see she wouldn't have to do much work.

_I do hope I won't have to hurt them. That would be…unnecessary. _Glancing at the mystic boy who had captured her attention, she repeated to herself out loud with a sly smile, _"Quite _unnecessary." It didn't matter what she hoped, though. Nothing was about her. Only the island, and the job at hand mattered.

* * *

With the hunters too afraid to go hunting in the forest, the islanders had to find new food resources. It was soon realized how quickly the supply of fruits was running out, especially with some of the younger ones devouring mangos and berries like animals. They weren't even hungry-they had just gotten so used to the abundance of food, they hadn't been cautious. And now the price was to be paid-nearly every fruit tree in the jungle was wiped clean. Only on their third week did Annabelle see the sudden blow.

"We're going to have to fish," she decided. It was the only source of nourishment left. Nature was their opposition now, and their survival hung threateningly on its provisions. With no questions asked, a group was made to take hunting spears, and attempt spear fishing in the ocean. _Good. _At least they still listened. Surely, it wouldn't be long before the people started to break apart. From the little she knew about psychology, the islanders were in for some rough times, mentally and physically. Annabelle frowned, worrying. _Only a matter of time…_

Of course, she didn't know just how little time.

People weren't their only enemy.

* * *

The headaches were coming on again.

_Damn it, _the girl said silently. While everyone else slept, she rubbed her forehead in a futile attempt to make the pain go away. Auburn hair swept into her eyes, and she shook it off furiously. She thought they were gone. She thought she could sleep soundly at night again. _Never underestimate the power of nature._

Ruby knew enough about the wilderness to register that they were from lack of food. Water, she knew there was plenty of. No one even guessed that she had been going up to the lake she found on the first day, creating her own pile of supplies. They were hidden, buried deep in the woods. In case something happened, in case she needed a quick getaway.

But she also knew that the berries in the forest were running out rapidly. And her body wasn't getting nearly enough of the nutrition it needed. Back home, Ruby lived on a 1500 calorie diet. Carbs, fiber, fat, protein, calcium: these were all essential for sustaining her energy. If it went on like this, and even the pigs were gone from the forest, there would be no telling when she would die. Not just her, but everyone else on the island. Without proper nourishments, death was inevitable.

She knew Annabelle had assigned groups to fish, but it wasn't as easy as it looked.

_If it were, I would've tried. _Ruby snorted without humor.

The final thought that came to her mind was her sister: how would Rosaline possibly survive on her own? She couldn't, that was the answer. Neither she nor any of the other clueless morons seemed to realize this quite yet. _I need a place where I can take her, if there _is _an emergency. _Ruby could gather as much food and water as possible. Collect everything left, leave nothing for the others. Not exactly a generous notion, but she was a survivalist, and nothing was going to get in the way of her life or her sister's. As much as she hated the little brat, she was still flesh and blood. _Her _blood.

_That's it, _she settled as she tried to close her eyes. The pain was still there. _I'll keep her safe. I'll keep that little bitch safe. _It was the only thought that could help her return to sleep.

* * *

**"**Hey, Jack," she fluttered, hair flipping and lashes batting.

Old tricks. But they'd worked before. They'd always worked.

There, minutes before sunset, as the fire billowed with fresh smoke, Rosaline stood in front of the gorgeous boy. He was _truly _perfect. She'd had the best before. She'd had football players, soccer captains, MVPs of the basketball team. None of them were like _Jack. _Head of the rugby team. A sport she had never even seen. Hair blonder than hers, with light streaks that shone under the constant sun. And eyes, stunning, captivating eyes. Blue and crystal-clear and more beautiful than the tropical sea that surrounded the island.

Yes, Rosaline had to have him. She had to have Jack.

"Hi." A short response returned from his lips. Her own curled disdainfully, unsatisfied. She needed more.

"_So, _Jack, I'm sure you're exhausted from everything that happened this morning." He didn't move as she slithered to his side, looking up with fake-innocent eyes. "You could use a little…something, don't you think?" Hands crawled up to those toned, muscular shoulders. "Something to keep the stress away…"

She gasped in shock when he wrenched himself out of her fingers. Without hesitating, she followed the boy as he marched up the beach. There was still a chance. A chance to make him hers.

"Well, if you don't want a massage, maybe you want to take a walk? By the beach? We could watch the sunset, it's so-"

"STOP bugging me!" The beautiful eyes turned cold as he scowled irritatedly at her. "Now just…go and do whatever, kid." And then he was gone.

Rosaline turned slowly, her face paled. _No, no, this isn't happening. I've always…I mean I've never been…_

Her friends waited, arms crossed and clearly disappointed.

"I can't believe he actually, like, rejected you!" One cried out in disbelief.

_Me neither._

"Look at him, fawning over that slut." It was true. She turned her face to see Jack approaching Mathalina by the fire. The beautiful skank. No, she wasn't even pretty. She was just stealing every guy on the island. Not that any of those other losers mattered. Clearly, Annabelle was no longer any sort of competition now that _she _was here.

Swallowing back the stupid tears, the blonde flared her nose, glaring out into the distance. As the girls awaited her response, she simply remembered: _I am still beautiful. I am still popular, and any guy back home would take me. I am still Rosaline. _

"Bastard," she managed to utter.


	7. Chapter 6

**Chapter 6**

A week of nightmares.

A week of horror.

A week of deaths.

It was as if the island had demanded a massacre. A wipe-out of nearly half of the survivors. It happened quickly and mercilessly. No one could have expected what had come. Yet they should have. They should have realized, that they couldn't survive forever. Things had been all too perfect, and out of the blue, BAM. No longer could they deny how much they were in for. Rescue was even more crucial now.

It all began on the 22nd day, marking off their fourth week on the island. Annabelle drew the long, final line next to the three other markings on the black rock that morning. In 7 days, they would have been here for a month. One month, and no one had come to rescue them. But everyone seemed too in the moment and happy to care.

* * *

As soon as she left her shelter, she knew-something was wrong. Even the skies were grey that day, overcast with dense clouds and fog. The panicky girl who came scrambling to her was what really alerted Annabelle, however.

"Annabelle!" Lucy's arms flailed as she jiggled towards her. "Annabelle, we're completely out of fruits. They're all gone. And it's looking pretty bad with the fish."

"What-what, how?" was all she could get out. Eyes widening, she turned her head back and forth, scanning her surroundings. It was clear now, how bad their situation had become. Scattered all over the beach, people here and there sat, collapsed and weak. They were too weak to move, too hungry to even go and find food. Now the fruits were all gone. There were no more assurances, nothing guaranteeing their lives. A few more days of this, and everyone would be dead.

"Guys, we need to do something." Joelle's voice was filled with concern as she came traipsing up the beach, Maurice hurrying doggedly behind her. "We just _have _to get more food, no one's eating enough."

"I know, I know," Annabelle muttered. "I think we need to get everyone together."

"Uh, that's going to be a little difficult," said Lucy. "Considering half of them can hardly walk over here."

"They're all losing energy, Annabelle," Caitlin voiced. "The rest of us still standing should figure something out, soon."

"Where are all the hunters at a time like this?!" Figures that they'd disappear when they were most needed.

"Even the hunters, some of them are down. They're too chicken to find game, and there's just no other food on this island."

"OW!" A loud, pained cry from Maurice suddenly broke the group apart. He slumped to the floor, clutching his stomach in agony, while they just stared down at the boy, panic-stricken.

"Maurice! Is it your arm?" Joelle was immediately at his side, lifting up his arms. His face was paled and cold sweat rand down his forehead.

"AGH, my stomach-it hurts, it hurts!" Maurice doubled over onto his chest. "Oh, GOD." As the circle watched, horrified, he puked out a terrible flow of sick. Coughing and wheezing to spit out the vomit, he breathed heavily, and then was very still. Silence filled the group. Slowly, Joelle ran her fingers down his face, eyes sparkling with dread.

"M-Maurice?"

"What happened to him?" Lucy gasped, and for once, there was pure concern without any pesky curiosity in her voice.

"He's alive," breathed the leader. "And that's all that matters." She bent down and checked the pulse. Yes. He was alive, for now.

"I think it was food poisoning," said the youngest girl softly. Everyone turned to her: no one had noticed tiny Tessarose slipping into the circle. "He must've eaten one of the bad berries.

Annabelle whirled. "There are bad berries on the island?"

"Yeah. I know my berries. I've been taking care not to eat them, and to make sure no one else does either." She paused. "Roger almost did, but I stopped him in time."

"Well, then it is very good that you did." Mathalina appeared from seemingly nowhere, and the way she drifted so easily to the group was like she was dancing.

"Where were you?"

"I was simply aiding one of the fishers make a net when I heard the boy. He's eaten the berries, I assume?"

"What do you know about them?" Annabelle approached the older girl, looking directly into her eyes. "Will he live?"

"_If,_" she said, and she stared back as she did, "he hasn't had too many."

"If…"

"He only had three or four," Joelle declared. "I was with him; he was just tasting them. They weren't very good, he said."

"Then he will most likely not die." Finishing the analysis, Mathalina returned to a spot in the circle, leaving the collapsed boy and the captain in the center. Breathing a sigh of relief, Joelle did the same.

"Poor Maurice," Caitlin mused. "He's been on that ground before. It seems, doesn't it, like he's always the one suffering?"

"Yes," said Annabelle, frowning down at him. "Yes, Caitlin, it does. And it has to stop here. No one else can get hurt. No one else _will _get hurt."

"Can you guarantee that?"

At first, she did not answer Lucy's question. Swallowing, she slowly looked up, and breathed, "No. No, I can't."

No one was sure of what to do. For a long time, they all just stood, in the middle of the beach, with their campfire still roaring next to them.

Joelle was the first to move: she picked up her boyfriend's body by his arms, and dragged him carefully to a bed of leaves. While the rest began to scatter again, Annabelle stayed standing. She needed time to think. Food. Where could they find more food? Hunting and fishing were good. But the hunters were too scared to kill pigs like they used to. Now they were more careful-something that Annabelle never thought would be a problem. Even when they did kill, every now and then, they only brought back the piglets. _Cowards. _Too scared of the monster. The monster, if she might add, that are only based on Mathalina's words. They didn't even see it, so how could they be sure of its existence? It was all just built up of fear. She knew Jack was behind it all-he was the one afraid most of all. That and his arrogant head didn't make a good combination for a leader. Which was exactly why she had done everything in her power not to let him take over. If things were under his control right now, someone would be dead already.

Almost like lightning, as soon as she thought the words, the devil himself jumped out of the bushes. They were back. Annabelle's eyes narrowed, and she began marching up to greet them. This was going to be one hell of a greeting.

"_Why," _she began angrily, "do you guys ALWAYS have to leave in the middle of something important? And how do you possibly have the energy to hunt, with the food shortage? You're keeping meat from us, aren't you? You're all just too selfish to share it with us, is that it?" She was probably just saying nonsense, from the lack of nutrition in her brain. But it was always easier to blame Jack.

"Woah, woah, relax, hothead. What's got you all wound up in a knot?"  
"I'll tell you what, _Jack, _it's the fact that you seem to be perfectly fine, as well as the rest of you lot, while some of us are _starving _to death." Her glare was only returned by a raise of an eyebrow, and his humored expression only intensified her frustration.

"For your information, captain, half of the hunters are too sick to move," he began smoothly. "It was only me, Hazell, and Austen. Oh, and Roger." She followed his finger to the tall figure limping behind them. Roger's dark hair was matted and wet-only his eyes showed a sign of strength in his chiseled face.

"Hey, Roger," she greeted, still scowling at Jack. He nodded curtly, and only Annabelle noticed him turning his chin ever so slightly towards Mathalina.

"So what were you doing in the forest?"

"We know there's a food shortage, too. I'm not just a stupid jock. I was just getting the people left to try and at least get some game. But I guess...we were a little more worn out than we thought." He ended sheepishly.

_You mean you were weaker than you thought_, a voice rang haughtily in her head. No, she shook the voice away before they could become words. This was no time to argue with him, no matter how much he was pissing her off.

"Thayr's not with you?" Hazell's eyes narrowed when she looked her way.

"No, my idiot of a stepbrother is too hungry to move," the girl said icily. The words, no matter how nonchalantly spoken, really hit Annabelle: this was getting serious. It was only a matter of time before someone, maybe someone she knew, would die. Not that she had grown particularly attached to anyone, but it still brought on a wave of emotion. Panic.

"Okay, uh...we should start by..." Sweat ran down her palms, and Annabelle wiped them hurriedly on her shorts before they were noticed. "We should start by making two groups. Divide everyone who's still strong enough into two: fishers, and water gatherers." She pointed a finger towards the empty spot under the big tree. "We're out of drinkable water. All I know is, we can still go on as long as we have water. And we have a constant source of fresh water, the lake. So we shouldn't worry about that. Caitlin, Lucy, Rosaline, Mathalina, Roger-I'm going to bring you there so we can at least bring water for the sick. Jack, Hazell, Austen, Joelle, and the rest of you, get to fishing. Use your spears. This is our best source of food now."

"I think I would rather be fishing," Roger spoke quietly. His eyes didn't look up, but his coarse fingers were already gripped around a spear.

"So would I, if you won't mind." The second voice belonged to Ruby, who had somehow materialized from the bushes only seconds before. Annabelle hadn't even noticed her join the group.

"Well, alright then. Let's get moving." As the water group began hiking up the beach, Tessarose walked up to the leader.

"Annabelle, can I do anything?"

"Uh, you can come get water with us, if you want. But it's okay, Tessarose, you don't have to come. I don't want you using up too much energy."

Shaking her head, she said, "I want to fish. I know how, I can help."

"You ought to just stay home and keep knitting, babycakes," Jack voiced loudly as he marched past their conversation. "We've got the hard stuff covered." Tessarose ignored Jack, who didn't fail to receive a small punching on the arm from Annabelle. Ignoring the rude boy, she turned back to her.

"No, Tessa, I-" Looking at the twelve year-old, she saw only courage and determination in her sparkling eyes. The signs of youth, of child-like charms were strengthened. Hardened. She sighed. What the island was doing to this poor, tiny girl: it wasn't good. All the innocence had completely disappeared.

"I know I'm small, and everyone knows I'm the youngest. But I promise, I know how to fish. Not with a fishing rod, with a net."

"Tessa...where are you going to get a net?"

"I'll make one. Easily. Just trust me, please."

There was no changing her mind now. Annabelle knew, because she was the exact same way when she was determined about something. "Alright, Tess. I'm trusting you. I'm trusting you to take responsibility for yourself." Nodding happily, the girl flung her blonde hair in joy, and ran off towards the water. Following after her with her eyes, Annabelle could see it was grayer, darker than usual. The iridescent green-blue ocean no longer shone. It just floated, dead and yet filled with life.

_Sorry, fish. It's just what we have to do. We gotta live, too._

There was so much they had to do to survive. There was so much hard work involved, a bunch of teenagers trying to make it on their own.

And being in charge of them all was absolutely exhausting.

* * *

The silhouette hunched over his reflection, unmistakably out of breath. Big, calloused hands splashed up the water into his mouth, drank it, didn't stop to inhale. Gulped and gulped down as much as he could possibly carry. He was drinking too much. That was the first thing she saw, and that was all she had to know.

"Stop!" Her palms stretched out in warning as Caitlin leaped out from the bushes. Landing shakily on both feet, she ran over to the unnamed boy now standing, water dripping down from his face. He was one of the older ones she'd never met; and as he stared back at her in puzzlement, she realized she may as well never get to.

It was too late. She should have come sooner. _Any minute now…_

"What's going on?" A girl climbed out from behind the trees. Frowning in confusion, Annabelle looked over to Caitlin for an explanation as the others came closely behind. Caitlin had heard from miles away the boy now standing in front of them. A rustle in the trees, here and there. Rushing ahead, she had seen him drinking from the lake, drinking the unclean water with potentially deadly bacteria. No one was supposed to drink without boiling the water. That she had learned on their first day here. Annabelle herself said so.

"He drank from the lake," she said sadly. "Too much. It's too late, Annabelle. He's drunken too much." Staring in shock, the group began to make their way towards the boy. He didn't move. All he could do was widen his eyes, confused and fearful.

"How much did you drink?" demanded the leader.

"A-a lot. I guess. I-I'm not…I'm not sure." Accordingly, he began hacking and coughing, water spewing out of his throat.

"What's happening to him?" Caitlin gasped.

"I think he's just trying to get it out." Pursing her lips, Annabelle finally made a decision. "Alright, we're going to get you back to the camp, okay? Try to puke it out, just try. You drank water that could possibly be contaminated. It's alright, there's very little chance that it carries diseases. Mathalina-" She pointed back to the forest. "Can you take him back?" Nodding sharply, the dark-haired girl immediately took the flabbergasted boy's arm. He didn't even look afraid anymore, as he goggled into her face.

"Okay. Well that's settled…let's start bottling up some of this water." While Lucy and Rosaline went down to fill up their bottles, Caitlin found herself in front of Annabelle.

"I'm not sure he won't die, Annabelle," she began. She surprised herself with the steady tone of her voice. "What if it is dirty water? You said on the first day, that we had to drink the water after it was boiled. I saw that boy, he was gulping down enough to fill buckets."

"Caitlin, everything's going to be fine. Stop worrying. Boiling the water is a precaution, but I'm sure if he can get it out of his system, he won't get sick. And he's _not _going to die."

"I just have this feeling…that it _is _contaminated. That something's going to happen."

"Well," said Annabelle, and this time she spoke with finality. "Nothing's going to happen. Don't tell anyone else that it is, because we'll all be fine. I can assure you, Caitlin, he'll be okay." Of course, she couldn't really assure her. No one on the island knew for sure what would happen in their futures. Walking away, she could not shake away the feeling in her gut. The feeling that told her that this boy was going to die. But no matter how terrible that thought was in theory, Caitlin felt calm. Nothing was going to rock her, and that she could know for sure.

_This island. This place. It has…an effect on me. An effect that could turn out to be good or bad._

_It has an effect on all of us._

* * *

Annabelle was looking down.

Was it her fault for not doing anything when she had the chance?

Was it just coincidence, that everything happened as Caitlin had said?

Were they being punished?

That last thought was ridiculous. Punished? For what? For being on the island? And who would be there to punish them, other than that so-called monster? Only Mathalina had been sure of its existence. No one else had seen or even heard it properly. Just rumbling, uneasy noises. That didn't mean there was an animal living in the middle of the jungle.

_But there's always a risk._

There was no one to blame, she concluded. They had to stop blaming, and start working. The remaining lives had to be taken into consideration. She couldn't let anyone else…

Shaking her head furiously, Annabelle stood up. Her throat felt like it was burning.

_First things first, _she thought. The first thing they had to do was dig the graves.

As she went back out of her shelter, she could feel the sting of shock and disbelief in her eyes. 6 people were dead. Actually, 7, including the boy who had drunk the water from the lake. She had been wrong, she had been all wrong. The water _was _filled with bacteria. A disease no one could recognize. No one on the island had any medical experience-even Roger couldn't do anything. So it wasn't their fault. He had just…died.

It began with a fever. High temperatures, sweating at night. Everyone thought it was hypothermia, or something else from the heavy rainfall on the 23rd day. Only the water people knew what had really happened. Two days later, he was just getting worse, and without warning, he stopped breathing.

Roger, Jack, Annabelle, everyone tried to revive him. Nothing worked. After coughing up a spew of vomit, he was gone.

The other 6 had been worse.

Rest of the people still standing could only stand and watch, as the weak died away. Their bodies shriveled up from lack of nutrition, they lost huge amounts of weight daily. By the time the fishers finally managed to make a catch, 6 people were dead. It was difficult enough to carry each of the bodies to a flat spot on the beach. Now, they lay there, waiting to be dealt with. Over the corpses, a songbird flew in circles, singing a sweet, melodic tune. It was made up of 7 different notes.

Annabelle had decided to have a funeral ceremony-they would bury all of the bodies properly, and the people who knew them could say a few final words. After everything, it was still the only thing they could do. And it made her feel horrible.

The crowd was gathering around the dead. Walking up the beach alongside Tessarose and Lucy, she saw Joelle and Maurice coming from the other side, hand in hand. A miracle had saved Maurice's life, and the couple were reveling this great fortune by spending every minute together.

_Who knows how long they have left? How long any of us do?_

All 17 of the remaining survivors stood. Palm leaves swayed with the wind above their heads. No one said a word.

The procedure went on almost completely in silence. Being in charge of the funeral, Annabelle spoke few words about the people she hardly knew. She had never gotten to know them, but others had. Ones who did came up, saying their goodbyes. They couldn't stop the tears from rushing, the holding of hands. Even Jack and his hunters were solemn in memory of the strangers.

This was so unfair. It was her first funeral; and Annabelle had to take responsibility for it all, once again. She felt obliged to be strong, she felt like she couldn't even tear up.

Once everything that had to be said was said, she sprinkled the white sand over the corpses. There was something so unsettling about seeing the people she had seen standing and very much alive, now dead and sprawled on the bottom of a pit. Each person took a handful of sand, and paid tribute by pouring it the way she had.

Finally, she and Jack began filling up the grave with dirt. He wanted to help, he had said, to her surprise. Or at least, he had shown it. He seemed to know now, that there was more to being in charge than just bossing everyone around.

The remaining people scattered, and the pair was left to finish their job in silence. When they were done, she patted the top of the mound, and walked back down towards the fire. She didn't look back at Jack.

_How did they do it all? How were they dealing with death so well? _They were only teenagers, after all. Annabelle felt like bursting into tears. Death was not an easy companion for her. Yet even the youngest ones on the island seemed to take it so peaceably. Was it a good thing, or was it…was it something else?

Confused, she returned to her tent. She needed to get some sleep. It had been an exhausting day for everyone.

No one could even begin to guess, though, just how tiresome it had been for her. More than anyone, she was sure.

_They don't know, _Annabelle said in her head as she lay, staring up at the roof of green. _They don't know how hard it is on me. _Perhaps she was being selfish. At least she wasn't dead. At least she had enough strength in her to stay alive. That was lucky enough. But it wasn't the dead who had to suffer loss. It was the living. _She, _along with everyone else left, had to feel the trauma from what had happened.

The next day came quickly for some, but not Annabelle. All of last night had been spent tossing and turning in her bed, grieving over the events of the past week, which wasn't even over yet. Waking up, she realized that it was the 30th day. This would mark the final day of their first month on the island.

_30 days, 7 people dead, _she thought as she ate breakfast by the fire. She wanted to snort. _Breakfast. _Half a fish barely the size of her palm was her meal that morning.

Then again, she couldn't complain. At least she was alive.

Even the youngest, Tessarose, had shown her strength to survive. When Annabelle had offered her half of the fish, she had politely refused. From somewhere, she didn't know where, the young girl was getting her energy: _she _clearly had a will to live. And she wasn't selfish; she wasn't taking advantage of her age, and eating the same portion as everybody else. So why couldn't Annabelle, who was supposed to be the damn leader of all of them, do it? Was she weak?

Looking around the beach, she could see scattered people milling around, minding their business. Like nothing had happened. All except Rosaline, who sat very quietly on a rock. From her seat, Annabelle could see her crying silently, miniscule tears dripping down to her shirt. She didn't bother to wipe them; she simply continued to sob. Finally, she could feel sympathy for the girl-all of her friends, all of the irritating girls always surrounding her, were dead. Not even one companion had survived the week of starvation, of horror. And as she watched the traumatized blonde, crying hopelessly in shock, she realized Rosaline was ordinary: she was human. She couldn't handle death either. This was supposed to make Annabelle feel better, but somehow it just didn't.

Standing up, she shook the sand off her butt and bare knees. Determination clouded over her eyes heavily. This was all becoming way too real, but it was real enough for her to face it. No more people would die. As long as she was in charge, there would be no more people getting sick, no more people getting hurt-

"Help! Somebody help!" Annabelle's heart began to sink as the flustered voice called out her name, over and over. Wasn't she just starting to believe in herself?

_Perfect. Just perfect timing._

The boy screaming out from the water was Fillip, chocolate-haired and wet to the bones. Literally bony, pint-sized arms with unbelievable strength carried a boy up the beach. Others began rushing towards the scene. Oh no. Something had happened. She had let something happen again. It was all her fault, all her-

"Annabelle, you have to do something!" For the first time, the boy was hysterical, shouting and wheezing in panic. "Get, Jack, get Roger-get SOMEBODY! We have an emergency!"

"Okay, everybody just calm down." Pushing past the observing Caitlin and her companion, Lucy, she spoke as clearly as she could, "Fillip, tell us what happened-oh, god." Smell as well as sight of the fresh blood caused her to take a step back; holding her breath, Annabelle peeked down at the gruesome sight below her feet. A boy, she didn't know her name, lay with arms and legs tangled weakly on the sand. He appeared to be unconscious, but his breaths were short and hard, fighting, as he clutched the spear tightly in his fist: the spear that was driven deep into his right leg. The entire lower body dripped with crimson, wet and foul. Annabelle had to hold her breath-keep her palm to her face-in order to stay calm.

"Tell us exactly what happened, kid." It wasn't her voice that spoke up-it was Roger's. Somehow, he had already appeared at the scene, when only seconds ago he had been in the forest with the others. Jack and the hunters emerged as well from the forest. They were all here to watch. Most of them, to watch and do nothing, but Roger wouldn't. He was already operating.

Annabelle felt a wave of gratitude-she was sure she'd have no idea what to do with such an injury. Not being in charge for once, she took a step back, and tried to melt in with the rest of the people. 15 teenagers stood, waiting for Fillip to begin.

When she saw Tessarose amongst them, her first instinct was, she didn't want her to be there. As the twelve-year old watched the horrific amount of blood gushing out from the wound, Annabelle wanted badly to wrap her arms around her, take her far away from the place. But she remembered how much Tessa had wanted to be trusted, and how she had proven her maturity. It was something, she realized, she would have to expect. Even Tessa wasn't a child here.

"Fillip, I need you to _speak, _for me to begin." There was an edge of impatience, but only a slight one, as Roger urged the boy.

"I saw him fishing out in the water. I didn't think anything would happen-he was doing fine, he was just as good as the other dudes. So I was just watching this guy for a little while, when this gigantic wave came over all of them. I tried to warn them, you know, run out there, but it was too late. The rest of them were all fine. Except for this one. He…he was holding up the spear already when the wave came. Must've seen something, ready to throw. I saw what happened-he sort of stabbed himself by accident with it. When the waves crashed, and he lost balance. And then, uh, he lost consciousness, I think…so I got him from the water, and dragged him out." He said all this in one breath, and he gasped heavily at the end.

"It wouldn't have been smart for you to go out into the water when the wave came," Roger scolded gently like he was talking to a child. "You're lucky you're alive."

"I know, I know," Fillip finished, out of breath. "So that's what happened. Do you think…do you think we can save him?"

"Let's get to it." Immediately, everything began. Things started moving faster. "I'm going to need a bottle of clean water, it has to be boiled. All of the same bandage dressings I used for Maurice. And a thick, short stick. Nothing too long or big. Something you could bite with your teeth." The equipments were brought quicker than last time. No one hesitated as they worked, efficient and speedy. No one questioned Roger.

"Okay, listen, I'm going to have you bite down on the stick, alright? Don't pay attention to your leg. Be very still." He clamped his hands on the leg, and poured water over the drying blood. Screams of agony echoed through the tight circle, and everyone had to block their ears for a moment. Roger took that moment to wiped off the dirt from the wound, and before the boy could say a word, he slowly lifted the spear upwards. This time, the pained sounds were muffled by the stick. It was ghastly, seeing all the red, pouring down the long piece of stick as it was drawn out from the skin. A gaping, ripped puncture remained. Onlookers shrivelled, aghast, at the sight. They had never seen such a gory injury, and one couldn't blame them. On TV, they may have seen things like this, but not in real life, Annabelle figured. These things didn't happen in real life. Teenagers didn't get stranded on islands and cut their legs open fishing in the ocean. It just didn't happen.

Annabelle was having a specially hard time taking in all the blood. It amazed her, how calm and steady Roger was-fingers moving quickly to wet and clean the wound, like it was absolutely ordinary. He _was _really fit to be a doctor.

"How…how's it going?" Maurice asked, holding a hand to his mouth. As kind and spirited the boy was, the boy showed many signs of physical weakness.

"I'm sanitizing the area," mumbled Roger, eyes unmoving. Touching here and there, carefully peeling apart the skin to reveal the hole, he poured more water down. The injured boy hissed and wrenched from his grip in pain, but Roger held on firmly. Even with his incredible strength, though, the boy refused to give up. Struggling in pain, he turned over to his side, his leg grazing the sand on the ground.

"STOP!" Roger cried out. "You're going to get it infected!" He swiftly flipped over the boy again. Gasping for breath, hiss eyes grew wide; then, suddenly, they shut and his figure flopped to the ground. The boy didn't wake up again.

"Oh, hell…" Exhaling loudly, Roger went immediately into trying to revive the boy. Nothing worked-he was out cold. His fingers touched his wrist lightly.

"There's a heartbeat," he declared.

Checking his breathing every few minutes, he cleaned up the rest of the blood and dressed the injury neatly. Glancing over at Jack, who was watching as closely as he could without grimacing, Annabelle snorted. Even as much as he was pretending to be strong, she knew this wasn't easy for him either.

All of a sudden, the boy on the ground began shivering violently. His eyes remained closed, but a tortured cry rang from his mouth, long and painful. Roger placed a hand on his forehead, now sweaty and cold.

"He's burning up," he declared, alarmed. Moving his fingers down to his arm, he said, "His whole body is hot. He has a fever. The wound must be infected."

"What do we do?" gasped Annabelle.

"I'm going to need _everyone's _help." There was no hesitation. A damp cloth, instructed to be ripped from someone's shirt, was laid on his forehead; Cool water was brought to wet and bring down the temperature of his body. All through the night, the camp was at work to save the boy. None of them even knew his name. Still, they stayed awake, collecting more water from the lake, and surrounding his body. Even Rosaline didn't complain-she left to fetch food for the helpers wordlessly.

"Will he live?" Mathalina questioned at midnight, re-soaking the cloth in cool water.

"I don't know," admitted Roger. He bit his lips. In response, she simply put the cloth back on his head.

They tried all that they could. Until dusk, Annabelle watched them pour all their efforts out into the boy. But his temperature only rose higher and higher throughout the night, the fevers becoming more agonizing, the blood never ceasing to seep out of his wound, until the sun was peeking out from beneath the horizon once more. Dawn was breaking-and then it was suddenly too late. He took his last breath, and finally fell limp to the sand.

Another one dead. Another funeral to arrange.

The same day, they buried the body. No one left knew the dead boy enough to say anything. Annabelle merely stood in front of the freshly dug grave, hands perched respectfully together. Silence hung in the air, and a bird flew over their heads; she could swear it was the same one from the first deaths. It chirped a note, long and clear. The noise was beautiful, but not fitting with the current circumstance.

She opened her mouth to begin. She didn't know where to, exactly, but she knew she had to. "I didn't know him very well…I didn't actually know him at all."-here Annabelle paused to clear her throat-"But his death was significant, just like all the other people were. Because we can't take any of them lightly. This isn't normal, this isn't right. No one here deserved to die. But they did, and we should all see that." Gazing around the gathered crowd, she pointed her eyes at a few people. She continued, now looking down at the grave:

"So, whoever you were, you will be missed. I'm sorry I couldn't-I couldn't get to know all the people on this island. I should've, but I didn't take the time. Like I said…we didn't know you, but we're sorry." Awkwardly, she sprinkled the ceremonious dirt over the body after finishing. "Rest in peace."

Before leaving, however, she added loudly, "There's only 16 of us left. 16 people out of 24. We need to start being careful. Careful with each other."

As she walked away limply, the words she had spoken echoed in her head: _there are only 16 left…_

"So, what do we do now…?" Annabelle heard Lucy say to Caitlin.

_I don't know. _It was all she could think in her head, clouded and completely blank. Nothing intelligent, nothing that conveyed her as a leader came to mind. Her eyes glazed over lifelessly as she returned to her tent.

It wasn't made official. But in their heads, everyone remembered this week. It was engraved in their heads, called simply The 4th Week by their whispers, for the remainder of their days on the island.

The 4th Week.

A week that had wiped out nearly half of the 24 original survivors.

Only 16 remained.


	8. Chapter 7

**Chapter 7**

"Annabelle?"

Lucy's pudgy finger nudged the girl's shoulder.

"Annaaaabelleeee," she moaned.

"WHAT?!"

Startled, she backed away at the girl's sudden aggression.

"I just-I just wanted to know…" Her mouth hung agape. "I wanted to know if you had any plans…you know, since 8 of us are dead."

"I _know_ they're dead, Lucy," Annabelle snapped. "You don't have to remind me."

"I wasn't reminding you, I was just saying…well…what now?"

She sighed. "Just leave me alone…for a little while, okay? I can't deal with this right now."

"Deal with what? Deal with taking care of everything? Being in charge? Because that's who you are, Annabelle," Lucy tried desperately to explain. "You can't just get out of it now. It's your job. You signed up for it, and it's too late to-

"I can't deal with YOU, Lucy!" She shouted suddenly. "I can't deal with you bugging me all the time, it's so _annoying_! Now, I told you, leave me ALONE." Instead of waiting for her to leave, Annabelle shot up from the log herself, and stomped away angrily. Lucy could've sworn she saw a tear fighting its way out of her eyes as she disappeared into her tent.

Well, that wasn't exactly courteous.

Warm breath fumed out from her nose as she sat alone. What the hell? What had she done to make Annabelle go storming off? Nothing. She had done absolutely nothing. So why did everyone have to pour their anger out on her?

"Hey, Lucy," her only friend, Caitlin, said as she came from across the beach.

"I'm going to my shelter." Lucy didn't even turn to look at her. Eyes beady and narrowing with humiliation and fury, she made her way to her own shelter. Her friends' footsteps could be heard, and she quickened her pace. Caitlin couldn't see her cry. Lucy couldn't have her thinking she was weak and incapable, too. After closing the flap of leaves firmly after her, did she begin to sob silently into her arms.

All her life, she had been put down lower than everybody else. She had heard all the names: loser, nothing, moron, dumbass, freak…Having no parents didn't exactly help the situation. They had both been killed in a car accident when she was a baby, leaving her in the care of her worked-up aunt for 12 years.

Her aunt barely knew her. The only thing she cared about was that Lucy was brought up "properly", in her definition. She wasn't allowed to eat candy. She wasn't allowed to watch television. In short, she wasn't allowed to do much of anything. All she could do, under the watchful eye of her aunt, was read books and think.

Lucy did a lot of thinking-there was always something to think about. But apparently, thinking didn't get you anywhere in the real world. The real world known as school, or at least for her age anyways, was a cruel and violent place, she had learned. People like her weren't safe there: a wild, beastly environment.

In her head, the island and the mysterious jungle itself wasn't much different from her middle school. Only for her, Jack was the monster. As much as she hated to admit it, the boy was terrifying. His messed-up, hateful nature, with his bloodthirsty desire to kill pigs, contradicted with Annabelle's, which was purely honorable.

Right now, the leader was just in a mess-she had witnessed 8 of her people die in one week-but Lucy believed she _was _the right choice for their leader. Just imagining Jack in charge of them all made her shudder. No matter how clean and handsome his exterior was, with an innocent enough face and sunny blonde hair, Jack was dangerous. Lucy could feel that in her gut-and her gut was never wrong.

_But even Annabelle thinks you're some annoying little child, _a voice inside her head said quietly. She tried to shake it away, but it only got louder.

_Face it, Lucy, _it whispered, but the noise was deafening in her ears. _They don't appreciate you. They mock you, humiliate you…Jack even tried to hurt you. They don't deserve you. _

"No, stop it," she said to nobody, swatting away the imaginary voice with her hand. But it was only in her mind, and it had no desire to go away.

_They think you're _nothing. _You are nobody. Everybody hates you…but there's a way they could all stop._

"What…what is it?" No, she had to stop this. This was crazy, talking to herself.

The voice was gone, all of a sudden. Lucy sat up, trying to get it to return by clenching her eyes shut as tight as she could, though it was too late. The voice had disappeared, leaving her frustrated and immensely curious about what it could be-what the ultimate solution to her problem could be.

Maybe she was insane.

Then again, maybe she wasn't.

* * *

The girl cried too much. _Like a baby, _Ruby muttered in her head, shaking it in exasperation as she watched her sister sit crying on the rock. She had been this way for days. Normally, Ruby wasn't one to be sympathetic to Rosaline; and in return, she never wanted her sister's sympathy anyways. But after the death of every single one of her friends, something seemed to have hit her hard, going beyond her skin-deep personality.

After eyeing the blonde pitifully for some time, she approached the girl slowly.

Her eyes flashed icily as she saw her sister. Sniffling, she glared up and snapped, "What do you want, Ruby?"  
"Now, is that any way to talk to your sister?" Ruby smirked sympathetically. "Especially considering we're twins."

A waterfall of tears came rushing out. Sitting down next to the shrunken girl, she hugged her sister tightly. Rosaline wept in her arms; but she still didn't say a word to her. She simply stared, coldly and blankly off into the distance as she cried. In return, Ruby patted her shoulders. They both sat on the big rock in silence, one in grieving and the other in heavy thought.

_Soon, _Ruby said in her head. Soon it would be time. If everything went according to her predictions, she already had a safe place set up for the two of them. She had promised herself before, she would take care of her, and that's what she was going to do. Living among the rest of them wasn't going to be safe anymore. In order to survive, they were going to need a shelter, food, water, resources for themselves, and no one else. And she had just the place in mind…

Memories flashed in her head as she remembered all those times she used to spend in the forest, behind her home. The house was the last on the block, right by the woods in their green-filled neighborhood. Ruby could still smell the pine trees, feel the cones crunch under her boots. Black, waterproof boots she had worn this particular night, she recalled. It had been the first night she managed to make fire on her own, with no matches; it was also the first night she'd been caught.

_"Not that you normally have somewhere to be. But at 12 in the morning?" Rosaline's voice rang loud and obnoxious the minute she stepped into the kitchen. Ruby barely had time to wipe the heavily caked dirt off her boots before she saw her irritating sister-beautiful face and blonde hair flowing down her back-leaning against the counter, arms crossed. She sat on the high stool, her eyebrows raised with every intent of an interrogation. Fuck._

_"Where were you?" Judging from the tall mug of hot chocolate she was sipping from in one hand, this wasn't going to be quick and easy. Until that entire cup was finished, Ruby figured, she wasn't going anywhere. And even she couldn't come up with a good lie so fast._

_"I was in the forest," she began nonchalantly. This was true. "I made plans with a friend. She wanted to meet me there." That was a lie. Her regular trips to the woods were always by herself._

_"Right, like anyone would want to see _you _at midnight. In a forest." _

_"Alright…it's a guy." Giving it a romantic angle always puffed up Rose's sympathetic side. "He wanted to see me, in private. You know, meeting up in the woods, romantic night under the stars…that kind of shit."_

_Rosaline snorted. "Oh, please. Ruby, no guy would ever ask someone like _you_ out on some big, adventurous little date in the forest." Glowering, Ruby fought the impulsive urge to violently grab and strangle her sister, right there. _You little bitch_, she thought. _It's a wonder you have so many friends. _She had no idea how on earth Rosaline was so damn popular with everyone-all the freshmen and sophomores worshipped her. All Ruby could see was a vain, shallow girl with absolutely no self-respect and golden blonde hair. _

_Of course, her parents were blind idiots; they adored and spoiled the brat mercilessly. They were both clueless, with a high-middle class income and plenty of time to spare for their precious baby. Naturally, the other twin was constantly left neglected. Ruby had never been their favourite child._

_"Just tell me, Ruby." Rosaline began to get up from her seat, now with a tone of impatience in her voice. The blue eyes that had been twinkling with innocent curiosity only moments before narrowed into a glower. "Mom and Dad are going to find out eventually, anyways. So you might as well tell me, while I'm still somewhat on your side."_

_Such an ugly face for a pretty girl. It was a pity-the muscles in her forehead were only used for giving dirty looks and icy glares. _

_"You're not on my side, Rose." She simply stated the fact, and her lips pulled up into a pitiful smile._

_"I could be on theirs, if I wanted." Her own lips curled up in disdain. "I can just tell them you came home at midnight, I could just tell them _that _and you'd be in huge trouble. They believe me. You know they do, Ruby. They'll believe my word more than they'll ever believe yours."_

_"Then rat me out, skank." Ruby didn't tell her a word. Not even looking twice at her bitch of a sister sitting across the room, she flew up the stairs, feet tapping silently as she moved. The house remained noiseless, both mother and father sleeping peacefully in the bedroom. Yes, her sister would eventually tell them about this late-night venture into the forest, and Ruby would be punished. She didn't doubt Rosaline's word on that. But everything she had been working towards had been achieved, she had mastered the most important skill in survival, and for that, she decided, she was satisfied. She went into her bedroom, closed the door behind her, and fell asleep easily._

* * *

"Clearly, she doesn't know what to do next," Jack began rather matter-of-factly. "The rest of us left need a strong leader. Someone who can take care of us on the island. Someone who's smart, can think quick on their feet; someone who's willing to take the risks to keep everyone alive."

He was holding a meeting; his hunters stood in a circle around him, listening intently. They would hopefully fail to see that he was promoting himself as he spoke. None of them, fortunately, were very bright or accusatory. Thayr, the blithering idiot, just blinked and nodded whenever his stepsister did. Fillip and Sébastien were worse-and better at the same time. Excited grins of support and enthusiasm never left their tiny faces. The pair was quite small and annoying, even for freshmen. Jack wasn't exactly tolerant of annoying people. But on the island, no one could annoy him as much as Lucy.

_Chubby freak, _he immediately thought. From her round face to her obnoxious little attitude, everything about the girl made him want to throw something. Preferably a spear-and he had plenty of those hanging around now that he had mastered the art of hunting. All of the hunters had to admit, _he _was the best thrower. Except maybe Roger, but no one cared about Roger.

And yet, the tall, jet-haired boy, as well as the rest of his crew, were all standing there, curious to hear what he had to say. Only Maurice, who was a bit of a sissy in Jack's opinion anyways, hadn't come. He intended to use every bit of this opportunity, and before Annabelle could come along.

"Are you saying someone else should take her place?" asked Thayr innocently, tilting his head lightly to the side.

"Obviously, Thayr," the hazel-eyed girl hissed, glaring at the boy.

"I think I'd be a good candidate for the spot," said Jack loudly. When no insults were hurled, no screams of objection flew at his face, he continued. "I've been leader of the hunters ever since we got here. I can take care of you. I can hunt for you, get food and water, keep us all happy and safe…especially from the forest." The word _monster _couldn't quite get out of his mouth. It was so ridiculous, but the seriousness of Mathalina's expression that first day stayed glued to his mind. But if there _was _something to be afraid of in the center of the jungle, it would give him something to protect them from. Something to ensure his control.

Hazell was, as usual, the first to support him. "Of course you are. You're _wa_y more competent than her." She stopped only to give a side-ways smirk. "We already consider you as the leader, anyways, Jack. And I'm sure _everyone _agrees." She craned her neck towards Thayr, who was frowning, his dark eyebrows scrunched up in confusion.

Jack only grinned smugly. "Great. Because starting from now, I'm gonna take care of things. So all of you don't need to worry about anything. You'll be perfectly fine with me in charge. I'll make sure we have food, water, everything we need…and we can also have fun." Austen hooted at the suggestion, and Jack's two dronies followed suit, but Thayr continued to wear an expression of doubt.

"But…are we going to have to fight?" He said slowly.

"What do you mean, fight?"

"I mean…do we have to fight with, like, Annabelle? And her friends? Because she seems really nice, and she _does_ know how to take care of things pretty well."

"But she won't let you have fun, will she?" The leader leaned into his face. "She only wants us to hunt for the food, and not for ourselves. Don't you want to hunt, and actually enjoy it? Instead of being bound to her stupid _responsibilities _and shit?"

"All she's trying to do is get us rescued," he argued.

"Yeah, but face it, Thayr, that's going nowhere. We're not getting rescued anytime soon, and as long as we're stuck on this place, we might as well have some fun. Right?"

"Right!" Sébastien and Fillip chanted simultaneously. Hazell, however, was giving her stepbrother a burning glower. Her almond-shaped eyes widened even further when he went on,

"Annabelle may be kind of strict, but she's only trying to help us. She knows what's best for us, and I think…I mean I think we should listen to her."

"Thayr! What are you doing?!" By this time, Hazell clearly couldn't just stand and watch-she hissed into his ears and grabbed the boy roughly by the wrist. Jack could see even from the distance the red marks her strong grip left on his pale skin. Blood flowed excitedly through his veins-that Hazell could even scare him at times, but Jack knew she was useful in hunting. She had this amazingly wild, violent nature that could kill a pig in her sleep, stab it as easily as if it were a piece of paper.

"I was just-I was just saying…like maybe Annabelle…never mind." His voice grew quieter as he spoke, reducing to a low mutter, and Thayr was finally silent again, just as he had started.

A rustle in the bushes startled the group, breaking the circle as two people stepped in from the trees. Jack groaned as Lucy and Annabelle's faces peered around them, befuddled. Perfect. _Just _who he was waiting for.

"What are you guys doing out here?" Annabelle began, frowning.

"It's none of your business," he snarled back.

"Hey, she was just asking," retorted Lucy, crossing her arms as she always did. _God, _she was the most annoying thing ever. "And it _is _quite suspicious. Why are you all so far into the forest? Why not just talk out on the beach?"

"_BECAUSE, _dumbass, we don't want people like you barging in and listening to our fucking conversation!" Before anyone could stop him, Jack charged at Lucy, pinning her shoulders to the tree behind her. Only Annabelle screamed, "Jack, stop it!" as he fumed like a bull into her tiny face. "Listen up carefully, brat. You may think you're all safe under Annabelle's little roof, but she's not gonna be bossing everybody around for long. So you better get used to me, because I really _hate _your guts. I hate you! You are so damn ANNOYING! You're a know-it-all, and a bitch, and I just hate you _so_ much."

"Wait, what's that supposed to mean?" shouted Annabelle.

"You'll know what it means soon enough," Jack spat back, now pointing a finger at the leader. "You think you're so much better than everybody else? Well guess what? Some of us are sick of it!"

"I can't stand you either!"

"GOOD!"

"FINE!"

As a heated Annabelle stomped away in shocked fury, Jack huffed, attempting to regain his breath. He noticed, however, Lucy still scrambling to her feet. But she was showing no signs of going away.

Out of impulse, driven out of complete instinct, he slapped the girl across the cheek. Red bled from her face, and for a moment she stood, staring wide-mouthed at the boy. A slow tear ran down from one eye. It was the first time, it seemed, that Lucy was giving into his abuse. Seeing her run, run as fast as she could away from the hunters and into the darkening forest put something satisfying in Jack's head.

Jack stood. He fumed and he fumed, heat coming out of his nose like fire.

Something was burning inside him.

Something just couldn't take any of the bullshit anymore.

Something _had _to be done, NOW.

* * *

A sudden smack came upon Thayr's bare back, causing him to jump 2 feet into the air in surprise. Loud and sharp, the fresh pain sprouted a blue bruise. _Lovely, _Hazell thought to herself. It was a beautiful color, and she loved seeing it spreading across her stepbrother's skin. The purple and blue hues mingled and swirled with the pure white, like paint.

"Ow!" Thayr, apparently, didn't see the artistry in the clod now forming on the side of his back. He rubbed it with his hand, and staring up at Hazell in astonishment, muttered, "What-what was that for?"

"For _being _a complete idiot," she replied harshly. "What the hell was that? God, Thayr, could you be any more clueless?!"

"I don't know…I don't know what you're talking abou-

"SHUT UP!" She knew her eyes were glowing by now, glowing like crazy with anger. "Why in the _world _would you take Annabelle's side? Are you trying to get us all killed? I mean, honestly, Theodore, I don't know what goes on in that tiny-ass brain of yours sometimes, but let me get this very clear." The boy's own eyes grew, frightened, as Hazell stomped one foot on a rock inches away from his body. "We are NOT on her side. We're on _Jack's_ side, get it? Where he goes, we go. Remember Thayr, we're part of the hunters, NOT the goody-two shoes gang. Don't you have any bit of self-respect?"

"Of course I do!" Even as he exploded with frustration, his words were stammered and uncertain. "Hazell, you know I'd never-I mean I wouldn't do anything to go against Jack. It's just that Annabelle works so hard to keep us together, and stuff…so maybe, like, she's also a good leader?"

"She's an incompetent, self-righteous loser. Just like you." She raised an eyebrow and gave a look of disdain. "You're really good for nothing, you know that?" A sigh of exasperation hit Thayr on the face with warm air. "I don't know if you'd still be alive here without me."

"Um…thank you, I guess."

"_Thank you_?" Hazell laughed humorlessly. "Don't thank me. That's repulsive. Just…just try to stay out of trouble. It's tiring, having to have your back all the time because you can't stay on two feet." Then she walked away, not as angry as she had come but seemed to be simply put-out. Thayr sat, rubbing the blues and purples on his skin, and staring out blankly behind his stepsister. It was as if he had no emotions of his own. No response to anything. Like a robot.

But Hazell loved it.

* * *

Annabelle felt numb all over. Three days had passed since The 4th Week. Three days. And she still hadn't managed to get herself together.

_Come _on, _Annabelle, _she thought direly. _Get up, off your sorry butt. Go out there. They need you. _But nothing she tried to say to herself worked. Jack was already there, and he was parading around playing chief just fine. They _didn't _need her.

"Come out, Annabelle, I need your help," he had said three times now, popping his head into her shelter every now and then. _Please. Take your pompous nose and rub it in someone else's face, will you? _The hunter was only mocking her-trying to make her feel needed. They both knew she couldn't do anything right now. She resented the boy: for being so cold, having no emotional affect by the past week's events, whatsoever. And now he was declaring all-out war on her?

What the hell was that all about in the forest anyways? The way the hunters had all been gathered in a circle together, the way they had stared coldly at her…it was like they were forming a little army against her. An army led by Jack. To what, take her down? Were they out of their minds? In their current situation, living on a remote, deserted island, going against each other was _not _the best plan.

_He's really an ass, _Annabelle thought. A classic icy-hearted, irritating, son-of-a-bitch asshole. He couldn't even take care of them properly. Every day since the wipeout, his group had gone out hunting. For some bizarre reason, the hunters had regained their strength almost immediately, and become even more enthused about killing the pigs.

Jack was also obsessed with Mathalina-when he wasn't out in the forest, he was hanging around the girl 24/7. How was he supposed to even substitute for Annabelle when he was too busy chasing her around? Not to mention, Mathalina didn't reciprocate his feelings; that much was obvious. It gave Annabelle a headache, just thinking about the boy. He was corrupt, and he was selfish-clearly not a potential leader. And it annoyed her, the way he was always trying to take her place, fighting over everything. He just _had _to disagree with all of her ideas, just for the sake of being better than her.

She knew she had to get back on her feet soon. If she didn't, everyone's lives were at stake. Jack didn't care about the rest of them. He only cared about himself. Which meant that whatever they killed, whatever resources he found, weren't about to be shared. There were only 16 people left, and Annabelle was determined to get every one of those people home.

She made a mental list in her head of the remaining survivors: Herself, Jack, Roger, Joelle, Maurice, Ruby, Rosaline, Caitlin, Lucy, Tessarose, Austen, Thayr, Hazell, Fillip, and Sébastien. It would be easier to keep track of them all, since she knew each of them. Then she swallowed hard. Since she knew them by name, knew their faces-it was going to be much more painful to see anything happen to them. So now it was of the utmost importance to keep them alive. After everything that'd happened, Annabelle felt like it was her responsibility to do so.

But now, just for now, she needed to rest. The last few days she had spent either crying or losing sleep thinking about all of the problems they would soon face. Who was she kidding, to think she could lead a bunch of stubborn teenagers on her own? They wouldn't survive another month here.

Cold sweat ran down her back as she remembered the hunters' creepy gathering. And Jack, being absolutely horrible to Lucy. Ridiculously egotistic, as usual. But there had been something else, something more serious in his eyes, that bothered Annabelle. It had only been a glint, but the sincerity in his rough voice, his even icier glare, it almost frightened her. Almost. She wasn't the type to be frightened easily.

Still, there was something she had to watch very cautiously about him…very cautiously.

If she was any more emotionally unstable, she would say it was as if the "monster", from the jungle, was Jack himself.

She tried to sleep. But after that, it was just too difficult.


	9. Chapter 8

**Chapter 8**

Truthfully, the first thing that came to Jack's mind when he first saw her was:

I want to screw this girl.

Really, she was so gorgeous. Never before at his school, back in his old classes, had he ever seen someone so purely...hot. Delicious. Tempting.

All the girls back home, the sexy and the boring, adored Jack; they cooed and awed over him, and he knew he could have any of them. But Mathalina clearly wasn't interested. She also wasn't exactly resisting his approaches, either. That's what made her so much more irresistible than any of the girls he used to know-now, they all reminded him of lumpy turds compared to her.

Mathalina knew how to play it.

She played the game, and she could play it well.

Jack knew she wanted him. Surely, even beneath her cool exterior, she had her own intentions. Her own ...what if those desires weren't for him?

He swallowed. His mind lingered for a flash upon Roger, the older, dark-haired boy. Roger was a recluse-he had that cold, untouchable aura thing around him that kept some girls away.

And drew others in.

She had to be one of them. That was exactly her type, Jack was sure. If there was one thing he knew about besides hunting and sports, it was sexual connections. Mathalina and Roger had one. A strong one.

Only _he_ could see it for now. He had to keep it that way. If they knew, if they even got a clue...there could be no stopping it. Then, and then, Jack would be left with nothing. No fulfillment, nothing to satisfy _his_ desires.

A teenager had needs. And he vowed to get them, no matter what it took.

_Speak of the devil, and the devil shall appear_, he thought grimly as the oldest boy in the camp stomped by him. But like an angel, Jack grinned brightly towards him, even flashing his pearly teeth. Roger nodded back, barely moving his face.

_Just be patient, Jack._

_After all, what you want, you always get…_

It was how he had always been raised: by high-class parents, living in an upper-middle neighborhood, and he had never failed to get what he wanted. No, he wouldn't say he was spoiled...for sure, he worked for what he achieved. _Always, always work for what you want, Jack_, his father had said. _You can have the world. Everything could be yours._

His mother, too, had added: _Don't be weak, don't be afraid to fight for what you desire. Do anything in your power. Push back anything that's in your way. That's how I got here._

And there his parents had been then, sitting on luxurious leather couches, sipping champagne and having a conversation with their single, perfect son. Everything had worked out for them. They were happy, no matter what it tool to get there.

At the time, Jack had merely nodded, putting their words at the back of his head. He normally didn't listen to his parents, and why would he? Only suck-up losers did.

Now, the advice was pushed to the very front.

_I could have everything._

_I could have her._

_I could have the island…_

He snorted. Of course he could. He was Jack. And now, _now, _with Annabelle slowly but surely unraveling, it was the perfect time to pounce.

Everything was ready. He was ready.

_Pack your bags, _he thought to himself, smirking. _You're moving up to the big leagues._

* * *

The first time they met, it had been an accident. This time, though, he didn't think twice to follow her. Deep into the forest, past winding trees and dark bushes, just beyond the lake. It glimmered black under the crescent-shaped moon. The lake had brought her to him the first time; its murky beauty reminded him of the hair that fell delicately, yet wildly on her shoulders, her developed bust. She had worn no bra, and traces of her nipples could be seen from under her shirt. He wanted to rip it off, to reveal the glowing, tanned skin beneath. He wanted to hold her, to touch every inch of her body without holding back.

But no. Not yet. The time wasn't right. She needed to know, first, what he wanted.

Again, just like the first night, Mathalina sat in all her splendor, looking nothing short of a goddess; her legs spread, she was perched on the dewy grass. Her eyes remained closed, lashes long and spidery flitting above her lids. Just below was her nose, powdery and shaped becomingly, and her lips, irresistible in form and color. Rich, deep and red, without a hint of makeup.

She was so…so _perfect._

It was nearly impossible, what Roger was seeing right now. However, it wasn't simply _seeing_ that had roused his heart, his brain, his lust. He desired her in every physical way, yes. But when she opened her mouth, when she was moving and in action-that was when she fascinated him the most. How she had worked to help him with the injured. How she wasn't like the other girls, but spoke solely when it was necessary, and when it was wise to do so. Grace and maturity poured out from those burnt-red lips.

He could only admire her more and more. Mathalina was amazing, truly extraordinary in his eyes.

Roger needed her. He needed extraordinary. Since his mother, no woman had ever been exceptional in his mind. No woman except for her.

She didn't look, did not even flinch when he slid out from the trees. No doubt, she had already been expecting him. A soft melody hummed low from under her breath. He held his, not wanting to let go of the sweet, aromatic gust that came from her way. At last, she turned, lips curling up into a small smile as he took a seat next to her sprawled legs.

"Beautiful night, isn't it," she spoke graciously. Her eyes travelled up to the moon. "It is mid-way through the month now."

"Beautiful," Roger repeated. He didn't take his vision off of her bare skin. Eyes met, and at first, turning shyly, he glanced back at the girl. She was still smiling. But the way she smiled, it was a knowing one-as if she already knew. Knew everything. There were hints of playfulness, traces of lure and longing all mingled into that one smile. He swallowed. He wanted her.

It was her fingers that began, her dainty, long fingers creeping up his arms, his shoulders, his neck. They stopped to caress gently, with skillful feel, light strokes slipping between the bones and grooves in the cold flesh. Her body felt warm next to his. Or was his cold? Roger didn't care.

Breathing in sync, he found his own arms wrapping around her, naturally, as if they hadn't only met a week ago. "Have you ever thought about me?" The question, sudden as it was, also came without second thought.

She traced his hands with hers, and ended by holding them with a surprisingly strong grip. "Yes," she breathed. Her eyes, wearing a sly expression in midst of dark, swirling midnight blue, moved up to his face. He watched breathlessly as she studied his nose, his lips, the angular bones in his cheeks. "I like…how different you are. Different from what they think."

"And what do they think?"

"They think they know you." Mathalina chuckled, that beautiful quirk of the lips. "But I know a different you. I see…I see how you helped out Maurice when you didn't need to. I see how you did everything to try and save that boy."

"I see what you do too. I see that you're not just the girl everyone wishes they were, the girl who is…gorgeous." Here he stopped to catch a breath. "You're more than beautiful. You're strong. And different. And I can't really figure out who you are."  
"I," she whispered, "am Mathalina. I am everything you described, and more. And you do not know who I am, but...I think that you know what I want."  
"And you know what I want." Her goddess-like figure leaned closer, and suddenly, her head dipped down to his, and she was kissing him, kissing softly only for that first moment before digging deeper, pressing more wildly into him. Their tongues met, roughly in their mouths, and Roger could feel her lift his worn t-shirt over his head. She removed it swiftly, in one gesture, and they kissed more passionately than before.

_Passionate. _It was the only word that could describe their feelings. Roger didn't know what was happening; it was going by so fast. But he didn't mind it, either. He felt his fingers across the smooth shine of Mathalina's stomach, bare and glowing darkly under the light of the moon, as he ripped off her own top garment. They moved up to her full breasts, right there above the flawlessly toned skin; they then grinded slowly as he moved his hands over them, rubbing, embracing her.

She didn't let Roger do all the work-each slender leg hooked fastly around his waist, and he raised himself to allow them to slide down, touching his hips; neither ever stopped moving their lips on the others' as their bodies locked. She knew all the right places to touch, all the right motions to make. Her hands travelled speedily down to the button of his jeans, he released a breath of relief as the metal was undone, the zipper pulled down. He was soon undressed, only a thin line of undergarment separating him from her.

Hair was mussed by hands, grabbed ferociously while they continued to kiss, fire now burning within their mouths. It was all spur-of-the moment, crazy, something driven purely by teenage hormones.

Or was it?

Roger had never felt passion, never felt satisfaction as he did now with her. He advanced further, their figures now joined in perfect alignment. Every inch of him tingled, begging her for more. Feeling the contentment, he slid up his fingers, up the coarse fabric of a skirt, up to where he had longed to reach. Mathalina moaned appropriately, a soft moan of sheer pleasure. She returned a stroke, a grasping grope at him. Each touch was spell-bounding, each time she moved a wonder.

"You are amazing." A breath was shared between the two as they both paused, staring into the others' eyes intensely.

Mathalina only smiled in reply before pushing her lips back onto his.

The night grew cold. But the wind couldn't break through the heat between the boy and the girl, a tangled mass of black hair intertwining them together. The girl, with eyes as blue as evening sky, was beautiful, and the boy was just as appealing to the eye. Perfect bodies, perfect love-although one couldn't quite call it love, but deep, intimate passion-lay on the grass creating silhouettes in the dark. Her arms were wrapped around his waist, and his hands, now resting on her head. They were still. Only their breathing, steady but uneven, could be heard.

No, they did not do it tonight.

For Roger, though, it was still the best night of his life. After all, as long as they were on this island, they had plenty of time. _This is just the beginning, _he thought finally before falling asleep, Mathalina still in his arms.

* * *

The girl didn't bother her as she sat, gazing emptily out into nothing.

_Good, _Annabelle thought. She had had enough of Lucy annoying the crap out of her.

Not that she didn't feel bad about what she had said the other day, when she simply blast out the hurtful words at the girl. But it had all come out of her like a waterfall of truths, of cold, hard truths. That's what happened when Annabelle was in a state like this. Her emotional, and physical states were a mess at the current time. And some people were just making it worse.

_Some_ people, like this one who had marched into the forest like a proud orangutan a few hours ago. Literally thumping his chest like he was _so _boss, so damn special. _Please. _She snorted humorlessly as she thought of Jack, the "captain" of the hunters, leading his band of puppy dogs up the mountain. It was their turn to watch the signal fire, from what Annabelle could remember. Time, and schedules were all out of her head right now. She didn't even know what day it was: how many weeks had gone by since their first arrival on the island. Either way, she could only hope that the hunters would do their job. At least up until now, they'd watched the fire and kept it from going out at all times.

_But what's the point? _She thought hopelessly.

Almost as soon as the words came to her mind, as if by a strike of lightning, Annabelle heard the whirring noises. Looking up frantically, she could see, just barely there, but still, there: the helicopter, tiny against the blue sky.

Everything stopped.

And then, two legs shot up, arms began waving furiously in the air, and Annabelle shouted, "Here! Over here!" as loudly as she could. Her throat was begging for water, and her voice cracked as she yelled, but she did not stop. Seeing her actions, Lucy's eyes turned as large as dinner plates, and began screaming and moving wildly to get the chopper's attention. Slowly, others on the beach noticed the two electrified girls, and saw it hovering just kilometers away. Joelle, Maurice, Caitlin, everybody who had stayed behind joined in, rejoiced and slightly bewildered at the first hope of rescue in weeks.

"OVER HEREEEEE!"

"Help! Please help us!"  
"Look at our fire! Please, LOOK at the fire!"

At the mention of the fire, Annabelle whipped her head excitedly up at the mountain. Immediately, all the blood ran cold in her veins. Dark brown eyes widened in a mingle of complete confusion, panic, and fury. For there was no smoke coming from the tip of the mountain. There was no fire. There was no chance of getting rescued.

"Aaaaaaaaaaaah!" Screaming like a maniac and startling the people around her, Annabelle suddenly began speeding towards the forest. She was barefooted, but she could not care less. Rage drove the girl up the side of the mountain, across clearings of grass and cold dirt. The others only hesitated a moment before following her, chasing the girl all the way up to the very peak of the island, where they knew, they prayed, the fire would be there. But alas, when they finally reached the point, out of breath and exhausted, they could see very clearly that there was no fire. It had gone out-all that was left was black soot, ashes and dead wood on an empty pit. Not even a trace of smoke remained.

Nobody spoke. The leader hurried down to the wood, with the silliest notion that they still had a chance, and spun two sticks together in her palms. They scratched and cut her hands, blood running down and skin turning scarlet, but she didn't stop. "No, no!" She continued to cry out, refusing to believe it was over, that their chance of rescue had gone. And when she looked up, finally plopping down on the dirt, she could see that the copter, without a doubt, was gone forever. Clear blue and clouds remained, nothing more.

"No!" She tried so hard to fight the hopeless tears from streaming down her face. Burying her face in her arms, she let the pure despair, the wave of defeated emotion carry her down. In the stillness, there was a silence, so uncomfortable and so unbreakable. No one seemed to know, or have anything, to say.

In what felt like years, Annabelle finally stood. The leader was stony, her eyes staring emptily at the dirt, encircled by rocks and snapped twigs. There were no movement, no words. It was like they almost feared her, were dreadfully anxious of the girl's reaction.

The bursts of laughter and hooting from the trees broke the silence. However, the tension didn't cease to exist as the hunters walked right into the circle, Jack leading the pack of dirtied, hysterical savages. Their dress had become even more feral-the boys now only wearing nothing but ragged shorts cut from their trousers, and Hazell, the only girl hunter, in ripped, filthy rags of clothes left from what she had worn on the plane. Dirt encrusted her once gleaming hair, blowing wildly behind her unwashed face. She wore a wicked expression of pleasure on her dark lips, chapped beyond repair, but grinning like she had done the vilest, most pleasurable thing.

But what shocked the rest of the camp, what the startling difference in the hunters was, were their faces. Covered in streaks of paint and mud, they resembled animals more than anything else. Yet the lines and strokes of color were coordinated and placed artfully on their cheeks, and dark coal rimmed their eyes like some heavy, messily applied makeup. Jack's eyes shone more icily, more blue than ever behind the black circles of soot.

"We caught two!" The celebratory cheer came from Austen, who looked just as unrecognizable. The tall, haughty boy who had flirted with Annabelle only weeks ago now gave a triumphant sneer in her way. His face remained cheerful, but she could see right through his teeth, the glare behind his eyes.

It hurt, to see that even some of her friends had gone over to Jack's side (although Austen had never been exactly a good friend.)

"Yeah," Hazell said proudly. "Didn't we, Jack?" Here she gave her leader such a strong gaze, the ice in his face faltered just slightly as he twitched his lips; but Annabelle could see that even in his signature smirk, there was no emotion anymore. Hating on her and her friends apparently no longer satisfied the blood-thirsty boy.

"Yes. Yes, it was the best game we've ever caught."

"Isn't this awesome?" As the hunters whooped and shouted in glee at Fillip's cry, no one from the other side dared speak. They only waited, staring cautiously at Annabelle. They were waiting for it to begin.

_All hell's about to break loose, _Lucy's dreading grey eyes seemed to say.

It was quiet for the long moment between the cheering, and the Annabelle's dead silence. Sensing the tension, even the hunters stopped to gaze uncomfortably at the leader standing with such rigidity over the empty pit.

The words finally came out of her mouth, first sort of blankly: "You let the fire go out."

Jack didn't answer. He only looked up, blue eyes meeting the now dangerously fiery brown ones. Maybe she imagined it, but he swallowed an unnerved gulp as he saw the expression on her face.

"Yeah," he muttered. "We did, but so what? It can get going again. There's no harm done-

"No harm done?" An intentional, pitiful laugh poured out of her lips. "No harm done," she repeated. Suddenly glaring furiously, she choked out, "How the _hell _can you say that?! You and your hunters let the goddamn fire go out, and now? Now we're ALL going to pay!" She pointed upwards with an outraged finger. "There was a helicopter! Did you hear what I said? There was a _helicopter, _barely a mile away. If there had…god, if there'd been just the tiniest cloud of smoke, if you'd just watched the fire for a couple of hours, then we could all be going home right now! But no, instead, we're still stuck on this island!"

"I don't care about what you have to say!" Jack retorted viciously. "I don't care that we missed the helicopter, or that we didn't watch the fire, or that we're not going home. I don't give a shit! About any of it!"

"_Why_?" She was crying out desperately, just _trying_ to get a clear answer out of the boy. "Why would you want to stay here, where you know we're all gonna die? Because we both know it Jack, we won't be around much longer to hunt and go crazy if we don't try to survive."  
"I _am _surviving. And we're doing just fine, without any helicopters coming here!"  
"Well, you may feel that way, but some of us don't. I can't just stand here and let you do whatever you want, without helping us. _Some _of us want to go home, Jack, and we're not going to be able to do that, unless we all COOPERATE."  
"Cooperate my ass!" Turning towards the rest of the group behind Annabelle, Jack continued loudly, "The reason we came here to see all of you is this: We want to say, the hunters are NOT your slaves. We go out into the forest day and night for all of you, and some of you don't do anything. Well, I don't think it's fair that we get the same share as some of us who won't get off our lazy asses!" He turned his sharp gaze rather obviously towards Lucy, who flushed angrily. "So. We've come to a decision. We're not going to hunt for you anymore. You better start finding some other way of finding food, because what's ours is ours."  
"What?!" A shocked cry was the only thing she could get out of her open mouth. "You mean, you're just going to leave us to starve?"  
"Maybe, if you really want to eat, you should try going out and getting food on your own," Jack replied coldly. "You don't even know how hard it is for us…how much we've worked and slaved away for all of you ungrateful bitches. Well, we're sick of it. And I'm certainly not putting up with it anymore."

"Jack! You-you can't just…you can't do this! Please, Jack, you're not-not yourself, you're out of your mind!" But nothing the girl sputtered would stop him. The painted and savage boy just shook his head, and taking his half-dressed crew with him, they walked straight into the forest, without another look behind them. They marched almost, with such a fixed, single-minded manner; it was like the island was their home now. Annabelle wasn't sure of what home was anymore. She was barely remembering any of hers, from what seemed like a very, very long time ago. As she fought to stand without trembling, trembling in the wave of despair and hopelessness that came over her, Annabelle felt her body drenching with not rain, but bleak misery and defeat: all together with the sensation of a giant rock weighing her down into the ground, as she stared out into grey and masses of trees reminding her that it was over, that nothing she did would be able to return them to their past ever again.

* * *

The camp had fallen to night. Dead silence hung throughout the angry and divided, but sleeping camp. A cold breeze blew her hair across her face, tattered pieces in the moving air.

A fight to the death…there will be 16 of us.

And only two...only two would survive. Only two would live to see the end.

No, not now. She didn't need to be worried about it now. She still had weeks left, she knew. Maybe not more than two, but she knew there were still days until it would need to come to mind.

Mathalina stretched her arms, standing tall and mighty over the seemingly lifeless bodies dozing away beneath her. Roger slept motionlessly just inches away from where she had got up. She wanted to stroke his face, that pale and bewitching face. Every feature of it was beautiful in her eyes. But she held herself back tonight. He couldn't be awakened. For tonight, for the first night in the past two weeks, she could be alone and just think.

She found herself oddly missing the lake, where she'd spent hours meditating over the clear, illuminating waters and just stare, stare out at the same moon that hung over her head tonight. Tonight, it looked larger than ever before- a big, round orb of light, swirling above as if taunting her with its beauty, its grace. Mathalina didn't look twice at it this time, however. Her mind was elsewhere: in the very near, impending future, to be specific.

She had known the day would come, yet she hadn't expected it to come so quickly. After all, she had been awaiting patiently, living a slow but grateful life on the island for almost three years. Now that it was so close, the fulfillment of everything she had been trained and prepared to face, she only found herself admiring her beautiful surroundings more. It was a cruel fate-but it was her job, the job laid in her hands to carry out, and hers alone. And Mathalina knew it was one that must be done.

Still, there was one thing even she hadn't anticipated; what use was it to know everything about what was to come, if she couldn't use it to see, and prevent things like this, things like Roger? She couldn't say it was affection, or love, as much as simple desire-she wanted him, and he needed her. They wanted more than the others' bodies, though. At least, she, wanted the person inside.

Since she first saw him, knew who he was, she had felt a tingle of longing for the boy. The way he hid his soft-hearted nature beneath a seemingly unbreakable exterior, how he had immediately opened up when someone got hurt, all of his heroic traits that made her crave to know more. She hadn't needed any more assurance, though, of her feelings for the boy (if they could be called feelings.) All her life, she had had very little emotions about anything. Growing up how she had, her skin was hardened, her body cold and immune to all pain. But if she had to know pain, which she strongly doubted she would, from her first encounter with true feelings for someone else, as long as it was Roger she would receive it gladly.

So how could Mathalina have possibly expected, been warned of something like this happening to her? Or on the other hand, how could she not have been warned? If they had known everything else that was going to happen, surely they had some way of knowing about this?

The prophecy, the thought rebounded into her head. It was now impossible to shake off any memory of it. She knew exactly why she was here, of course. Everything she was doing, every move she made-omitting her midnight rendezvous with Roger-was for one purpose.

In the end, only two can live.

Two can live forever.

Not forever, of course, but time went by even slower on the island then it had back at home. Oh, how she remembered home, clearly as if she had been there yesterday. But home wasn't what she wanted to remember.

She knew the risk she was taking when she signed up for the job, the possibility of where her fate could end up. Mathalina didn't fear death, though; she only feared what she knew now would have to happen, what she knew could happen to him. If only two were destined to survive the final battle, as the prophecy recalled, she and Roger would have to be the two. Before, it had been different-before, she had not cared about someone. Even though, yes, she was to do everything in her power to make sure the prophecy came true, she wouldn't give in without a fight. They could be the ones meant to live on the island. It could be any of the teenagers who were on the island at the current time, said the prophecy. There was no reason that it couldn't be Mathalina and the boy she refused to give up.

No. She didn't admit defeat so easily.

She would do anything, go beyond any limits to ensure the fulfillment of the prophecy. That was why she had even crafted the smart tale of the monster in the jungle: to stir up their minds and hearts, and divide them.

But she would also stop at nothing to keep Roger with her.


	10. Chapter 9

**Chapter 9**

Inhale.

Exhale.

…Inhale once more.

Slowly, Jack was able to comprehend the sight before him.

No. No, this was not the way things were supposed to go. This was not what he wanted. And this was definitely not what he was used to.

Questions, thoughts of utter confusion and betrayal immediately clouded over his mind. As he dashed away back through the trees so he wouldn't be seen, his brows refused to straighten from its deep, perplexed scowl. How was he supposed to believe what he had seen? These things just never happened to him…it just wasn't real.

I should've trusted my gut, he thought as soon as he was back in the forest. I should've known he would…But really, what the hell? How had he let this slip by him? How had he possibly let this happen under his nose? Had he been too preoccupied with the hunters, too busy fooling around with those little idiots to notice? Was he losing his touch?

Mathalina…and Roger.

The sound of it alone made him want to hurl.

Well, there went any chances of having some fun with the hot bitch. All fantasies of what he could do with devious, toying Mathalina with her wickedly tempting smile and dangling, luxurious mane of hair had just flown out the window. Jack wanted to stab the tree standing next to him in frustration-he should be the one sticking his tongue down her throat. He was the chief of the hunters, after all. So wasn't he supposed to be getting the best of the best privileges? Why was it, then, that the backstabbing ROGER was the one screwing around with her?

It was then he thought of something else: maybe it was because he was the leader of the hunters. _Only_ the leader of the hunters. Thinking hard about it, the answer seemed simple: as long as Annabelle was in charge, she would be the one getting everything. They all looked up to her-at least, the blubbering freaks who didn't follow him and the hunters. But even a traitor amongst his own group, Thayr, had questioned his leadership abilities. Jack simply wasn't the head of the ENTIRE group.

That was it. All he needed was more power.

If he could just somehow get everyone to answer to him, if he could run the whole show himself, there would be no choice but for Jack to get what he wanted. That was the great benefit of being a leader: you got the best of everything. He'd always enjoyed sitting on top of a group and watching from above, making sure everything went according to his plans, his ways. And they would always have to listen to you. Give you whatever you demanded.

Decidedly, Jack clomped heavy feet over bushes, heading back to the beach with determination deadly sharp in his mind. Each step he took, each cloud of dirt that exploded under his stomp, reminded him of his goal, what he should've done a long time ago, what he was going to do once and for all: Take out Annabelle.

* * *

"Listen up, losers! I'm gonna say this once!" Annabelle's eyes shot towards the boy shouting, shouting above all their heads with feet planted in the sand. His angelic eyes shone darker than the violet sky.. Another rage. Another big empty speech about how he would do _something_ better than Annabelle. She could already see it coming.

Sighing, she walked up to the boy's face this time without hesitation. Everyone already knew there was another brawl brewing, too, of course. It was like daily routine now. The Annabelle vs Jack Show: main entertainment of the island. Was this really how things would, should continue? As the two biggest leaders of the survivors, they sure weren't being great role models. "What now, Jack? Jack the fearless leader, Jack the hunter. Please, speak." Her voice spat with acid, not looking away from the boy's hard, candy blue eyes.

"Oh, trust me, I intend to." His gaze was equally fierce as it bore into the girl inches away from him. Stepping out of the invisible, but heated circle created by their feet, he spoke to the crowd. His voice directed straight towards the hunters, huddled in a group and waiting.

"I'm so sick, of having to listen to your crap all the time, Annabelle. You never get anything done, and you can't even find us food. And worst of all, you never let us have any fun. So," before Annabelle could open her mouth to argue back, he continued determinedly, "I'm making a new camp. One led by me. Me and all the hunters, we're gonna live on the other side of the island, now. We'll find somewhere. I don't care where. We'll go anywhere: into the forest, another beach, anywhere." He spat his words out now viciously. "Just not here. Anywhere's better than here." And suddenly, with that final word, his heels turned and his legs moved swiftly away from the crowd. No one spoke a word, although Annabelle's mouth was gaping open like a fish. A completely unexpected blow. An utterly reckless and ridiculous decision. It tore a hole in what remained of her mind.

"You-you can't...stop, Jack! Wait!" She found herself calling out hoarsely, despite her pride attempting to hold her back. But this was no time to be listening to that. This was a desperate time, and desperate times called for desperate measures. There was no chance of survival if the camp was split up. Two groups would just mean more rivalries and more struggling for food. If they could even get any food, without the hunters.

"Jack, you can't just leave us! I don't know what your problem is, but we need to stay together and figure this out! We're not going to make it split up like this!" She could see Hazell, smirking as she and all the other dutiful hunters began following their leader to the other side of the beach. Maurice was the only hunter who stayed, his feet planted firmly beside Joelle's.

And Roger, she noticed as the dark-haired boy glimpsed out from behind a tree. He climbed onto the beach, with Mathalina just behind him. But even this suspicious sight couldn't take away Annabelle's focus.

"Jack, please! You have to come back! Let's just, work this out, okay?"

"Good luck finding your own food, Annabelle!" was his reply. "You've got, what, a week before the mangos run out?"

"Jack!" She screamed after him. She screamed and screamed, but she was screaming at empty space. Only footsteps dug into the heavy sand were left behind.

The sand was wet. As realization came to Annabelle, the rain began pouring tragically onto her body, drenching her head. The remaining people, the ones who had stayed loyal to her, all stared at her in horrified confusion, their shoulders now dripping as well. They were looking to her, looking for her to find a solution, or to simply decide that they didn't need the hunters, that they could go on without them. But there was nothing that could be said, nothing to be said that was true or reassuring that would make this situation okay. Annabelle was breaking, the one who was supposed to keep the group together falling into pieces, and it was clear to see as her knees gave way, bare legs falling, falling and hitting the grains of muddy sand below. She cried, not even trying to disguise her tears with the rain, knowing she had finally reached her limit.

* * *

"Hush, little baby, don't say a word."

Lucy's singing was very low. And off-key. It was a good thing she'd never sung in front of Jack. His misguided temper would've probably led him to beat her for it.

She smirked. _Jack. _The lowly, cowardly creature. No longer a boy, too beastly for that, but it was clear some of the girls on the island were in love with him. One in particular, although she wasn't willing to admit it anytime soon…

Stupid girl. Stupid people. Everyone here was so incredibly _stupid._

They didn't like her because they didn't understand her. They didn't get that Lucy was the best chance they had at survival. She was smarter than them, more responsible than them. Jack could get them meat and Annabelle could say some fancy-schmancy words, but the hunter was uncontrollable and the leader had become weak. The people needed someone who could rein herself in, someone who had a clear head and knew what to do. Someone like Lucy.

Only no one would give her a chance. Because she was unattractive. Because she had on a little baby fat. Because all she ever did was try and help out, when no one wanted help. Not because they didn't need it, but because they were too damn foolish to ask for it.

"Momma's gonna buy you a mockingbird." She grinned. It was a lullaby, a song meant for babies. But Lucy's time as a baby was long gone. Her singing was merely a sort of farewell…farewell to the little that remained of her past self. The self that let people like Jack push her around, literally. Just like her babyhood, that Lucy was long gone.

She was done waiting for them to tell her what to do. Done with holding in the pain with clenched teeth every time they hit her, hit her with every attempt to break her down and make her give up, give in to their abuse and humiliation.

"I think I'll go find Caitlin." Lucy got up from her solitary rock. She began to walk, dragging her feet blindly across the grainy sand.

* * *

Thayr gulped. Those striking eyes, an exotic mingle of emerald and chestnut brown, all pointing a very sharp gaze towards him-it made his mind boggle. Sometimes, his head got so confused. It was probably because he wasn't very smart. And Hazell, his sadistic and beautiful stepsister, didn't make it better.

Her words bore right through him, his mind cloudy as he stared back blankly at her glaring face. "Thayr?! Thayr, are you listening to me? I swear to god, you are the biggest idiot I've ever met. How can you possibly think about going back to them? You belong with us, Thayr, you _belong_ with the hunters."

Right. The hunters. Like a charm, the words brought him back to reality.

"No." Shaking his head, he went on, "No, Hazell, I…I have to go back. I really, really _don't _belong here. It's not like anyone will miss me, or you even. This isn't right. Annabelle will know what to do."  
"_Annabelle _doesn't know you," Hazell said. Was he imagining it, or had a hazy, dreamlike quality wrapped around her words? "I know you, Thayr. And I know you definitely belong with me." Astonishingly, he could feel her hand moving across his bare chest, distracting him, forcing his eyes to look at her face. In a matter of seconds, her tone had shifted completely.

Everything changed. She was not his stepsister anymore, no longer the terrorizing, cruel girl he had always known. He had seen her face before, her tousled hair and sharp features, all of the details that now captivated his sight. She was just a girl. Just a beautiful girl, smiling with wide eyes at him. No. No, what was he doing? Hazell was his stepsister, and on top of that, someone who had treated him horribly since the day his mother re-married. Someone who definitely hated him…

"Thayr," her voice whispered as dainty fingers quickly wrapped around him, caressing his neck and back. "You know you belong with us. You belong with me…you know that, don't you?" Her signature hazel eyes looked up longingly at him, seeming to almost sparkle beneath long, flickering lashes. And then, he could no longer resist. Thayr received with welcoming lips as she pressed hers onto them, kissing him roughly. Everything was always rough with Hazell. Even now, as they kissed, letting some linger and some come and go, it was with fierce passion. He wasn't sure he liked it-but it was better to just accept Hazell than to oppose. He couldn't even try to. There was nothing, he felt, he could do as his stepsister's grasp moved down to his shorts, dropping them at the speed of light. There was nothing he could do to keep her from removing her own filthy shirt, nothing he could do as she pushed him backwards into a tree, still kissing him as his back slammed painfully against it. They went on for what seemed like for a very long time; and when it did end, all Thayr could feel was complete and utter surprise-shock, really, at what had just happened. As they slipped their discarded clothes back on, he still couldn't believe Hazell (Hazell!), his stepsister, had made out with him. And took off her shirt. And his pants. It had gone by in a flash. But the only thing he could remember was the way her breasts had looked beneath her dirtied, white satin bra. He couldn't think, or even breath before, but now he wanted to touch them. _Oh well, _he thought. _Too late for that._ And too late for him to go back to Annabelle's camp, not that he wanted to any longer. But he figured sticking around Hazell and the hunters she adored so much would be best, IF he wanted more. From what he'd heard of her stories with her past boyfriends, she'd given them so much more. Did he want more…?

Yes, he decided as he followed her back to their new camp. Yes he did.

* * *

"Oh, god…oh, god, Annabelle…what do we do now?"

But Joelle's frantic words of concern barely touched the girl. After her knees had given way, she had needed both Joelle and Maurice to help her sit down on the dampened log. Night was falling fast, and she knew she had to think of something before the sky grew completely dark. The remaining kids who had now been waiting for over an hour, waiting for her to make a decision, or tell them what to do, were already food-deprived and thirsty.

Finally, Annabelle stood up. She stood up to count the kids who had chosen to stay behind in her camp. More than half seemed to have left-surrounding her on the beach were only Caitlin, Mathalina, Roger, Joelle, Maurice, Rosaline, and Tessarose. It was a surprise, but a good one, to see that Tessarose, whom Annabelle had been watching carefully over since she was the youngest, had survived the gruesome 4th Week. Twelve-year old Tess seemed to be uncannily clever with her knowledge of which plants and berries were safe to eat. It calmed Annabelle just a little to know one of the most helpful people on the island was still alive.

As for the missing girls…Ruby and Lucy, she knew, wouldn't go with Jack, but they seemed to have disappeared to somewhere. For now, it was just the 8 of them left. She already knew who had joined the hunters' group. A small stab of betrayal pained her as she thought of even Austen, who had once shown the slightest of interest in Annabelle, was now a savage, rowdy beast like the rest of them. Sure, she had never really liked him. Sure, he was a bit arrogant and too confident for his own good, but he had never been _evil. _That was Jack-he was the worst of them all. He truly possessed a sick, twisted mind where he had clearly plotted to manipulate all of his so-called followers. How else could he get anyone in their right mind to chase after him, like he was some great king or something? Of course Hazell, who was obsessed with Jack, wasn't exactly in her right mind. And what about her poor stepbrother, Thayr, who was too confused to find his own way to where he belonged?

Raving about Jack, even just inside her own head, made Annabelle feel a little bit better. As those who had stayed loyal to her stood around her, still waiting, she found the strength to speak. It was what she had done best, after all, since she'd arrived on the island, and she knew it was what she should keep doing.

"Alright…it's been a rough day." She chuckled darkly. "That's a pretty big understatement. I know we've lost a lot of people today. More than half of the group's gone to the other side of the beach." Taking in another deep breath, she continued, "It shouldn't be like this. We shouldn't be splitting apart and taking sides. We should be working together…we should be using everything we've got to help each other-to stay alive…because-" Annabelle held in a tear fighting its way to her eyes, with as much composure as she could muster. "I'm sorry," she sniffled quietly, hating how weak it made her sound. "I'm sorry." Clearing her throat, she stood taller now, her voice bigger and projecting more clearly. They were all waiting for her, waiting patiently, those people whom Annabelle realized had now become her friends. The people who had supported her from the beginning were waiting for her to take the lead again, and the simple thought that they would let her gave her the courage she'd had when she'd first stood in front of them. Only now, this time, it was crystal clear who had taken her seriously. It was clear who her real friends were now.

"But we'll be fine." Her voice rang out loud and ringing. "We'll be fine…without them. We'll be just fine. Because if they think they can live without us, we can _certainly _live without them. Look at the plentiful fruits and plants around us! And the fish, we could always catch the fish. I've never been a big fan of pork anyways-my dad's Muslim. And look, we've even got a doctor on our side." Here she pointed towards Roger, who wordlessly nodded. "Look, I know it seems bad right now. I thought it was all over, too. You've all seen me…I've been a total mess these last few days. But I promise, I'll try my best to set an example, and take care of things around here. I'm promising you guys, that I'll really try. I guess I just want to say thanks…for all the support. You know, since the beginning. I mean, you guys are the ones who's stayed on my side the whole time. And I just want you to know how grateful I am for that. So thanks, again…okay, now I'm really done."

She finished her disoriented and messy "speech" with the most authentic, reassuring smile she could produce. It was her first smile in the last week. It might not have been entirely genuine, but it was the best Annabelle could do for right now.

* * *

Even from this distance, Caitlin could make out the silhouette of the young girl sitting on the rock by the riverbed, her blonde head dipping low as she bent down to touch the surface of the still water. It didn't please Caitlin, how her finger had disrupted the silky, motionless flow of the river, as the cluttered rings formed around Lucy's fingertip. She didn't like touching things that were part of nature, things that should just be left alone.

Climbing over boulders and fallen branches, she made her way towards her friend, Lucy, who was now merely looking across the water with unusually calm, thoughtful eyes. She didn't turn her body as she sat down next to her, only tilting her head slightly and smiling to acknowledge her.

"You should've come to the meeting. Everyone was there. When Annabelle wants to talk to us, you should listen."

"I was busy," Lucy replied casually. "I was busy...thinking. It's not easy to do anymore, not out there where there's so many people." She suddenly looked at Caitlin, a corner of her lips lifting up into a small smirk. "How long did you have to wait for Annabelle to stop snivelling and get her act together?"

"Lucy," Caitlin began gently. "She's trying her best. You know that, right? You're still with her, right?"  
"_I_ am with myself," said Lucy. "Annabelle's becoming weak. She might've been a good leader in the beginning, but you have to admit the truth, she's been completely breaking down in the last few weeks. We both know we can't afford to follow behind anyone who's weak, Caitlin. Not if we want to live." Caitlin felt the girl's right hand sliding comfortingly onto her shoulder, then her arm. "We're in this together now."

"Yes," she argued, "But we can be in this together _with _Annabelle's help. She's older than us, and I believe she knows how to get us off this island."

Lucy shook her head, chuckling. "There is no getting off this island, Caitlin. This is it for us. This is our life from now on."

"I won't believe that," said Caitlin softly. Lucy did not reply. She didn't seem to want to press on. Instead, she picked up a small twig, and began picking the dirt-encrusted bark off of it, taking her time digging her now long and sharp fingernails into the wood. Still fiddling with it, she stood up without warning.

"Come walk with me, Caitlin." Lucy gestured to her, wagging her fingers in invitation, and Caitlin accepted by following the young girl's lead. Only looking at the back of her bobbing yellow ponytail, she followed her deep into the forest, wandering behind the girl seemingly wary of her surroundings. Twists and turns they took between trees and rocks, giant boulders so tall they blocked the sunlight right out of their view. The walk went on for a very long time, and Caitlin could see it was getting dark; the sun was beginning to set behind them as they ventured further and further. They were now beyond anywhere even Caitlin had explored in all her pastime.

"Lucy, it's getting dark. They're probably looking for us. I think we should head back now."

"We are going back," Lucy replied. "We've been walking in a circle." At Caitlin's curiously puzzled face, she added, "This forest, this whole island is a perfect circle, from what I've perceived. And right now, we're approaching the very centre of it."

"I remember, the leaders went to the centre before. They said there was something dangerous living in it. They didn't say it to everyone, but I heard...you must have explore a lot more of this place."

"I did indeed," said Lucy, giving a small, pink-cheeked grin. "I've seen more of this island than any of them. Even the hunters."

"Not Mathalina, though," Caitlin mused. "She's been here longer than us. She was here before us."

"Was she really? I mean...I had my suspicions, but I thought, how could she have possibly gotten on this secluded island, all alone without leaving any hints of a crash, or a wreck? Like I said, I've searched this whole place thoroughly, and there's no sign anywhere of her having come to this island by accident."

"So...so you think she's _not _here by accident?"

"I didn't say that." Lucy bit her thumb. "Logically, it doesn't quite make sense. Why would anyone, especially a teenager, come to a deserted island alone? And that's what got me questioning, what purpose does Mathalina really have here?"

The two girls were silent for a moment. After the silence, still chewing on the tip of her finger like a baby, Lucy spoke. "It gives me enough reason to not trust her. To not trust anybody here." Her eyes looked straight into Caitlin's, a cool grey staring into blue. "Who knows what the others' real intentions are?"

Letting her question hang in the air, the girls walked further into the very centre of the forest, only to find it concealed almost entirely by a wall of tangled vines and trees, all intertwined to create a web blocking their way. Lucy was about to lift up a single, thick vine and attempt to get under it when something glimmering in the dirt caught her eye.

"What's that?"

"What's what?"

"_That."_ Lucy pointed, already making her way towards a small, barely noticeable bump in the soft soil beneath a very large tree. It looked almost overgrown to Caitlin, with its branches flying in all directions, its gigantic trunk dwindling down into several moss-layered shallow roots. The lump in the ground would've been almost impossible to spot, but in Lucy's sharp eyes, even the tiniest hint of a dark glint poking out of the dirt could be seen. She didn't hesitate to bend down to the ground and begin scooping with her bare fingers the dirt away from the bump. When she was finished, her curiously gleaming eyes had morphed into two, giant round saucers. Even her mouth parted slightly in amazement as she pulled the once buried object out of the ground, and brushed away the last remains of soil.

Caitlin's curiosity hadn't failed to get to her, either. "What is it?"

"It's...perfect," was Lucy's answer.

Turning around, in her chubby hands was a shiny black pistol.


	11. Chapter 10

**Chapter 10**

"Our camp has only three rules.

One. We do not associate with Annabelle or any of her pathetic gang.

Two. You do not speak ill of your leader. That'd be me.

And Three. We. Must. Have. Fun. We're the hunters-we kill because it's fun. What we kill, we eat, and we don't share with the rest of them We let them suffer while we enjoy ourselves. Got it?"

No one dared speak up against their new chief as Jack's piercing blue eyes went around staring at each of them in turn. Only Hazell seemed brave enough to stare back, all the while grinning and licking her pink lips in excitement. It was getting to an almost freakish level, the way she revered him. But, it _was_ exactly what Jack had wanted.

Wasn't it?

"I said, do you understand?"

The hunters didn't hesitate before nodding their heads ferociously up and down, and shouting out, "Yes, Jack, we understand!"  
"Oh, and you'll all refer to me as _chief _Jack," he added after a quick thought. Again, echoes of "Yes, chief Jack," rang out all around the small circle, the wild voices seeming to bounce all the way across the beach. _Good, _he thought smugly, _I hope it reaches all the way to Annabelle's ear. I hope it makes her realize that I'm the one they chose, not _her. _That I'm the true leader. _None of the stupid, ignorant children left in her camp mattered-he'd only lost Roger, a skillful hunter but now a traitor, and Mathalina, whom he tried to think of as nothing more than dirt on the back of his soles, although even as dirt she'd be beautiful. Responsively, Jack spat on the sand under his foot. No matter how hot that bitch was, she was dead to him now. Mathalina had made the mistake of choosing Roger, and now she'd pay for her wrongs just as much as Annabelle, and the rest of them. God, they were all so goody-goody, all of them! They just loved Annabelle to death, and couldn't possibly leave her for him. A small, invalidated part of him envied the girl's strong management and control over those kids, those _normal _kids who chose to follow Annabelle out of loyalty. Jack knew that the idiots that surrounded him now, chanting his name and calling him _chief, _were only doing it for the meat, for the hunting. They were clueless. He'd gotten the stupid bunch of the lot. But they were still kids, after all. They couldn't resist the fun of killing dumb little pigs, the thrill of taking the life of something even smaller and weaker than them. And Jack could use that to his advantage.

As the leader looked back up, he saw his hunters waiting for him to continue. He blushed for a moment, only now realizing there was nothing more for him to say. He knew Annabelle would go on and on about some crap about food, or water, or making shelters or whatever. His heart sank as he comprehended the fact that they'd have to build shelters and a fire all over again. That could take up a whole day, maybe more of their precious hunting time. They had no matches left, but hadn't it been Jack who'd started the first fire at the old camp? If he'd done it before, he could do it again.

"Um…alright, everyone get working! Do…do what you usually do. Or something. Whatever. I'm going to make a fire." As he bent down on the ground and began to make a pit, he was washed over by a feeling of defeat-the worst feeling in the world. He remembered now: that irritating Lucy had been the one to successfully create a fire by rubbing two sticks together on that first day. Begrudgingly, he attempted to do the same thing, with little success-and kneeling on the sand, pathetically grinding the twigs against each other as fast as his blistering hands could twirl them between the palms, he had an infuriating sense that his new supposed-to-be superior role as the leader wasn't offering him much superiority. Jack crinkled his nose, frustrated, but continued rubbing the sticks, for he knew that making a fire was crucial for his new camp's survival. As he squatted awkwardly, Jack slowly began to comprehend, if only a little, just what Annabelle's job was really like-and a tiny part of the hunters' chief wondered if being in charge was really worth it.

* * *

Wiping the sweat off her forehead with the back of her hand, Annabelle bent forward and finger-counted the day's forest haul-nine coconuts, eleven papayas, five banana bunches, and a handful of mysterious dark purple berries (picked by Tessarose.) The numbers were small, she knew, and these wouldn't feed their now group of 8 for long. But Roger and Maurice were supposed to be coming back with their catch from the sea soon. That should be enough to get them by at least for the next two days.

It was hard to believe they had gone from 24 people, all the way down to 8: Annabelle, Tessarose, Joelle, Maurice, Roger, Mathalina, Lucy, and Caitlin remained in her camp. With the sudden disappearance of Ruby and Rosaline, however, Annabelle was still uneasy about her group's loyalty to her. Could she really count on them to stay on the beach, with her, when she'd barely been able to take care of herself the last few weeks? She was picking herself up again, yes. But things were never going to be quite as easy as before with Jack and his hunters, also known as their primary source of food, gone. They were now residing in a new camp inside the forest, on the other side of the island. At least she wouldn't have to see or hear Jack's condescending, rude, and violent demeanor anymore. She had to wonder sometimes, though…was it possible that he really was totally and completely evil inside? Could there be a chance that there was still a tiny, tiny bit of sanity inside the vicious hunter? No one could truly be that bad, certainly not a 15-year old boy-could they?

A thud of weight landing right in front of Annabelle startled her back into reality. She looked up straight into the tanned, well-built bare chests of two teenage boys-Roger and Maurice- who had just dropped a hand-made net full of fish at her feet. Maurice grinned in triumph. The boy, who'd barely had any muscles a month ago, had acquired a fully developed set from all the tedious work on the island; but he was still thin in comparison to before-everyone was. Everyone's skin had also darkened under the constant heat of the tropical sun. Annabelle looked down at her own growling stomach, which was sporting a golden tan, and three times flatter than it had been on her first day here. She knew she wasn't the only one hungry. She knew they were all learning to live on very small amounts of food. If being fat had been a problem for her before, or anyone else on the island for that matter, well, things were certainly a lot different.

Ignoring the saliva collecting in her mouth at the sight of freshly caught fish, she began picking through the pile exemplarily.

"The fish must've liked us today," said Maurice excitedly. "We caught a huge load. Just look at this-look at this, Annabelle! This whole pile must weigh a ton!" Taking a small fish from the net, he looked around, and spotted his girlfriend. He waved it straight into Joelle's face, who shrieked in both horror and laughter. "Stop it-stop it, Maurice!" she squealed, giggling as her boyfriend lovingly wrapped his arm around her waist.

As Maurice quickly forgot about the high mound of fish, and the couple began making their way towards a private log, Roger jogged away as well, towards Mathalina. Watching the two meet with lifting faces and bright eyes, Annabelle could see just how strange the idea of couples was in their situation-she could now safely assume that Mathalina and Roger _were _involved in some kind of romantic way, as she'd seen them go off together alone several times- yet the fact that love of any form could exist on a deserted island made her feel just a bit better.

Grunting, she lifted the heavy sack of fish with both arms. It had been a long day. An even longer few weeks. Taking care of so many other people for over a month had been exhausting work for a 15-year old. At least now, the number had shrunk _and _the people left were working harder than ever. _Maybe it's lucky that the hunters left, _she almost thought. _All the unhelpful people gone, and only the responsible people left. They can have all their fun hunting pigs and leave us alone, and we can all live on the same island peacefully. It's a win-win situation._

Almost.

* * *

The smallest rustle in the trees alerted Mathalina like a wild feline on a hunt.

Her left ear perking up naturally, it led the way as her head spun around, picking up each little sound. Her ears had been trained to do this-her mind programmed to hear and see everything. For she never knew what dangers could surround her, trapping her alone in the center as quick as a flash…

Suddenly, her blood rushed cold all through her veins. _Could it be…could it be-_

"GOTCHA!"

As she screamed, her boyfriend Roger pounced on her with a triumphant roar.

"Roger!" She was both shocked and pleased to see him, whose arms were now wrapped around her whole body.

"Wow. I've , uh, never heard you scream, Mathalina." Grinning, he attempted to pick her up-this time, however, she was fully prepared. Rapidly swinging one silky leg under his muscular one, she hooked onto it and used it to anchor herself down before he could lift her up. In contrary, it was Roger who fell forward, landing right on top of Mathalina with a loud grunt.

"Ooof!"

Her eyes now gleamed with wicked delight.

"I got _you _this time."

"Alright, alright, fair enough." Roger didn't seem to want to argue anymore. Good. "I've never seen you do anything like that, either. Are you usually like this?"

"What do you think?" Her sultry whisper sealed the mood as they closed the gap between them, kissing fiercely with one body on top of the other. They slowly got to their feet, lifting one leg, one knee at a time, and as always, never unlocking their lips. Since their first kiss, they'd become even more harmonious, having learned to move in sync. Even when they were fully standing, they could not stop kissing, couldn't keep their arms from leaving each other's bodies. Their moves became wild-black hair entangling as their hands moved madly across their faces, their chests, their necks. Only when Mathalina leaned away, taking a big gasp of breath, did they finally stop.

"Wait here," Roger suddenly said.

"What-"

Without explanation, he scurried to a nearby bush. Working with his fingers on something, he yanked and pulled out a fully bloomed, yellow flower. Returning, he tucked the blossom behind Mathalina's ear, the stem disappearing into the mass of midnight black hair.

"I love you," he whispered, seducing her with each word. He leaned in closer. "I desire you. I need you. You're everything." Suddenly, he broke out of his deep, alluring trance and swung the unsuspecting girl into his arm. In a classic salsa dance move, her body fell back and contorted gracefully. Snapping her head back up, Mathalina smiled a small, coy smile, before leaping up and back into his both arms.

"I love everything about you," she returned, edging her lips and her nose and her dark eyes closer and closer to him. Their faces met, and without any more doubts or hesitation, their lips plunged into each other once more.

* * *

And here they were once again, talking like old times on the beach, sitting on one log with swinging legs and Caitlin jabbering away like her usual, innocent, clueless self.

Only Lucy knew things would never be the same.

"You know if we stay here one more month, it'll be summer vacation? So we won't even be missing any school. Not that I dislike school…it's nice being around people, wandering those hallways, getting lost with yourself. Isn't it, Lucy?"

"School is the last place I want to get back to," Lucy replied simply. "I do not miss anyone, student or teacher, from that place."

"Well, unfortunately for you, when we get rescued, we're all going to have to go back," said Caitlin matter-of-factly. "Like it or not, Lucy, we're still going to be freshmen next year." Her eyes suddenly brightened, smiling. "What do you think high school's going to be like?"

Lucy looked at Caitlin. Grey eyes turned into stone, narrowing dangerously as they looked straight into the young girl. _You poor, naïve, thing. Do you not get that this is our life now?_

"Caitlin. We're not getting rescued. Not for a long time, maybe not ever-not if these stupid _children_ don't find a way to get along. And keep that fire going!" Lucy sputtered, ending with a cry. Unintended tears spilled out of one eye. She wiped at it fiercely. She wasn't about to cry, not in front of her only friend.

"It's okay, Lucy." To make matters worse, Caitlin laid a hand on her shoulder, her soft blue eyes reassuring and filled with sympathy. _No, just don't. Don't do this. Don't be your innocent, sweet, optimistic self, because it's NOT going to help! _

"We _will _be rescued," Caitlin said firmly. "They're looking for us, right now, because we have people who love us. Like your parents, and mine. And once they find us, maybe we'll even get to go on our trip." She smiled here, the corners of her eyes crinkling at the happy thought. "The one we were supposed to be on before we got here. We could go together."

That was it. That was enough to shoot Lucy's body up from the log, fuming with exasperation and anguish. Her infuriated look alarmed Caitlin, her ever-positive smile melting into a gape.

"Caitlin!" Lucy shouted, exploding in frustration. "We are NOT going on a trip. We were _never_ going on a trip! That's what I've been trying to tell you, what I've been trying to tell everyone this whole time! You're all so, so, so OBLIVIOUS!" She threw her hands in the air at a loss of words. "Haven't you been paying attention to the news, or to the war in England? I overheard the education administrators in a meeting the week before- we were being evacuated. The Spanish army is coming, and they were planning on bombing our area first. We were in the biggest target zone! That's why we were being evacuated to Washington! How can none of you have realized? How could you possibly not notice, how sudden this random, school-wide trip was, and the fact that we came here on private jets, instead of on a normal airline. Didn't anybody even suspect anything?!"

Caitlin's eyes were wide with shock, intensely staring into Lucy's burning grey ones. Her mouth seemed to have formed a permanent O shape.

"I…I, I just…I mean I never knew…"

"Of course you didn't." With a small, triumphant smile, Lucy stood up. "I knew it all along, and you didn't have a clue. Neither did anyone else on this island, for that matter. And what does that tell you? That goody Annabelle, or Jackass, pardon the pun, or any of those other idiots are fit to take care of us?" She put her hand comfortingly on the girl's tiny shoulder, never taking her sympathizing eyes off of her. "Listen to me, Caitlin. You and I, we're on our own here. We can't depend on anybody, okay? I can help you, and you can help me. We're in this together. We don't need Annabelle, or anyone else telling us what to do, or how to do it. Not when they can't do any better either. But I can. You're my friend, right? You know I can take care of us, right? So what do you say, Caitlin? Do you want to come live with me?"

* * *

Time went by too quickly sometimes for Mathalina.

Despite the darkness, with the light breeze blowing her glossy midnight hair away from her eye, she could see clearer than ever as she stared out into the night. She had visited the lake once again, hoping for a clear mind, but even at her private oasis, every bit of it was filled with the prophecy. Letting out a curt breath of frustration, she stepped off the gleaming-smooth rock she had chosen to perch upon tonight. Two bare feet landed on the soft grass, wet with beads of dew here and there. Lately, having Roger with her had given her some distraction from her grandiose task at hand. But it was another one of those nights-those sleepless nights where some part of Mathalina's head was telling her the happiness wouldn't last much longer.

_No. I refuse to accept that._

But you know it'll have to happen sometime, the voice said.

_Not now. Soon, but not now. And not to Roger._

He won't be excepted from it. You can't control his, or anyone else's destiny.

A prophecy. That's just what it was. It wasn't destiny. It wasn't their future.

_Besides, _she tried to think, _we still have a chance. Together we're strong, and powerful, and no one can stop us. No one can kill us. Certainly not any of these _children_ who are left._

Mathalina swallowed. Thinking about how few of them were left to take care of only brought to mind how close they were to the end. How little time they might have until she and Rogers' plausible destruction. However, the desolate thought also reminded her of her more favorable possibility-their happy ending.

_Happy ending, _she repeated to herself, chuckling. Mathalina'd never been one to believe in such things. But this time, it was looking more and more like a probability rather than a prophecy, as the numbers began counting down.

And she and Roger were in it for the win.

There were 16 of them left.

Only 16 left.

_Game on._

* * *

**END OF PART 1**


End file.
